


Bathed By Blood

by knitekat



Series: Bloodverse [2]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Historical References, Hurt/Comfort, London, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mind Manipulation, POV First Person, Possibly Other Tags, Supernatural Elements, The East End, Vampires, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 15:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 47,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1904130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knitekat/pseuds/knitekat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sir James Lester's and Tom Ryan's night at the theatre is their last peaceful moment when they become involved in a series of gruesome murders in the East End of London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Night At The Theatre

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta.

I smiled at Ryan as he sat opposite me in my carriage. He looked so divine in his attire that I desired nothing more than to lean forward and partake of his lips. If it would not have been unseemly, I would have instructed Charlie to turn us around and make all haste back to my house. It certainly did not help my willpower when the tip of Ryan's tongue appeared between his lips as he licked them. I was not convinced of the innocence of that gesture and knew I was correct when he looked coyly at me from beneath his lowered eyelashes. 

“Tease,” I hissed and was very near to calling it a night when I felt my carriage draw to a smooth halt and knew we had arrived at our destination. It would be far too noticeable to leave now and I had no wish to be the subject of gossip, or worse, to cause concern for those in the know. Not to mention that I had been looking forward to watching this play, but that did not mean I would let Ryan get away with his conduct. As I rose to leave the carriage I made sure that I accidentally, but thoroughly, caressed Ryan's thigh. 

I could hear Ryan's muffled curse as I stepped out onto the pavement outside the Lyceum Theatre. I took the opportunity to glance around the street as I waited for Ryan to join me. Young flower sellers in their brightly coloured shawls and drab patched dresses sought to sell their wares to the passing crowds with great success. My fellow theatre attenders, in sharp contrast, were garbed in expensively tailored and elegant clothing, much like my own and Ryan's. Thinking of Ryan, I turned towards my carriage and smiled as he finally joined me, for I was convinced his delay had been to carefully adjust himself in his trousers. Good, I had little doubt that our love-making this night would be most enjoyable. I paused to pat my matched pair before turning to Charlie. “Return to the house, Charlie. Bed Deimos and Phobos down for the night. Ryan and I will hail a hansom home.”

“Zur?” Charlie did not look most pleased with my instructions. “Utchy com back ater play, zur, or zay 'ere and ooait vor 'ee.”

“No, I think not.” I rubbed the satin smooth skin on Phobos' nose when he pushed against my hand for attention. “I believe I will visit my club, Charlie. Tell Becker not to wait up.” I started to step away before adding, “Inform him I do not wish to rise before midday.”

“Utchy ool, zur.” Charlie tugged his forelock before instructing my matched pair to move on. I paused to watch their motion, they had indeed been a most suitable purchase. 

I turned back to Ryan when he softly cleared his throat to gain my attention and I smiled as I took in his appearance once more. He really did fill his clothes rather well, even if I preferred him naked and in my bed. I shook my head for those were not thoughts to have in a public street, although if the play did not live up to its reviews, I was certain I would still enjoy it – or to be precise, I would enjoy Ryan. I once more gave thanks to my purchase many years before of a private box, one that not only had a good view of the stage but was most secluded from any prying eyes. I might be able to make witnesses forget any indiscretion they witnessed, but I had always held the view that discretion was the best policy when two men being in love was a crime. 

“I say, James, old man.” I almost closed my eyes as I heard my name called out by a well known voice. Just who I least wanted to see, for Ronald seemed to have little understanding of discretion. It was well known in the circles we both frequented that he was, in the popular vernacular, a backgammon player. Obviously I did not care about that, only that someone might take more notice of my own subtle relationship with Ryan if we were seen with Ronald and the man who was clearly his current beau. 

Even with that risk, I still had little option but to turn and greet him. Manners after all were important for one of my status. “Ronald. How good to see you.” I quirked an eyebrow at his companion and waited for him to supply the answer. 

“Frank, this is my old friend, Sir James Lester and...” Ronald paused, “I am sorry, my good man, I do not know your name.”

“Thomas Ryan, formerly Captain Thomas Ryan of Her Majesty’s armed forces, sir.” I bit back a smile as Ryan nearly snapped off a salute to Ronald. 

“Ah, a fighting man.” Ronald's eyes lit up at Ryan's words and I stepped closer to my lover, a propriety gesture for I knew of Ronald perchance for soldiers. Ronald's eyes flicked to meet mine and I relaxed when he barely bowed his head in acknowledgement that Ryan was out of his reach, that he was mine. “Enjoy the play, I know I will.” Ronald shot a lecherous leer at Frank and I only just refrained from rolling my eyes at his antics in full view of anyone watching. Sometimes it amazed me that Ronald and, oh yes, Frank were not serving at her majesty's pleasure. I supposed money, old money at that, helped. Old money and titles and having once been a MP. That and the fact that although Ronald might be indiscreet, the establishment would have considered a scandal in the newspapers if he was arrested and charged with being homosexual to have been far worse.

“You too, Ronald.” I nodded at Frank before heading inside and into the secluded comfort of my box. I knew full well that Ronald and Frank would be in their own box, although I did have to wonder if they would be watching the play at all or just engaging in other pleasurable activities. I cursed the direction of my thoughts as my cock twitched and stirred in interest. 

I made myself comfortable in my over-stuffed chair and smiled as I took hold of Ryan's hand. He shot me a startled look before glancing around to check who might witness my overt gesture. I squeezed his hand and when he looked at me I told him, my voice low so as to carry only to his ears, “I promise we are concealed from public view, my sweetheart.”

I smiled as I saw Ryan's shocked look before he squeezed my hand back and leaned in close, his breath brushing my ear. “I will enjoy using the windward passage later, sweetheart.” 

I noticed Ryan knowing look when I had to discretely rearrange myself in my now-confining trousers and I shot him a heated look for his teasing. I vowed to make him remember our activities tonight for some time. “You will not be the only one. Now, hush, I really do wish to see this play.” 

“I apologise, my sire.” 

Ryan did not look that apologetic in my opinion but he did settle down to watch the play, even if I did notice his hand stray slightly too close to his tackle for propriety's sake. It took some effort of willpower to drag my attention back to the stage and I had to take a deep breath as I tried to relax. I really did want to watch the play, having read several good reviews and I had high hopes for I had enjoyed the novelette it was based on. I had seen the celebrated Richard Mansfield in other plays and looked forward to seeing his performance in the lead role of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. As I waited for the curtain to rise I found myself once more musing of the parallel between the novelette and my own existence

I smiled as the play progressed and found myself waiting for the dramatic scene I knew was coming. It would be perfect for my plan and it would serve Ryan for his earlier teasing. When the attention of the audience was mesmerised by the events on the stage I pulled Ryan in for a deep kiss. He tensed under my lips and I smiled against them, I knew no one would be paying attention to us and had soon coaxed Ryan into kissing me back. I reluctantly pulled free and rubbed my thumb over his hand, my voice almost a breath as I told him, “Tonight, my love.” Ryan swallowed and nodded as he shifted uncomfortably in his own chair. 

We settled down once more to watch the play and I was pleased to discover it was as good as had been claimed. I tilted my head as I caught the faint sounds coming from Ronald's box. It appeared I was not the only one taking advantage of the distraction the play provided, although I had limited myself to only a single kiss.

****

I woke with a mutter of annoyance as sunlight hit my face. I had retired late last night after a pleasant evening at both the theatre and my club with Ryan, even if we had had to put up with Ronald and his beau for sometime before I begged leave claiming I had an early start in the morning. I smiled as I remembered Ryan pouting at me in the hansom the doorman had summoned at my request. As soon as the bedroom door had closed behind us I had leaned forward and kissed him. He had swallowed when I told him I could not have taken another minute of Ronald and his lover, not when all I wished to do is be with him, in our bed. Together. I had taken great pleasure in stripping him naked before I had my wicked way with him and him with me. For several hours. It had been a most enjoyable end to the evening.

My musings about last night screeched to a halt as I remembered I had left instructions not to be woken before midday. From the way the sun hit my face I knew it was far too early for by late morning the sun did not shine through my window... My eyes flew open as I turned to check the whereabouts of my lover. Although I was unharmed by the sun, Ryan was still learning to withstand its burning rays. I breathed a sigh of relief when I found him buried under the covers and still safely in the shade. 

“Ethel,” I growled out, wondering what had possessed her to draw the drapes on myself and Ryan without warning us she was about to do so. 

“Zurry, zur.” Ethel curtsied, “Thur be a gentleman vrom Scotland Yard downstayers, zur. Er zaid er mozt zeak to 'ee urgently, zur.” Ethel paused and I indicated that she could speak her mind. “Pardon nif baint me place, zur, but er looks to 'ave things on his'n mind.”

Interesting. “And the drapes?” I still didn't understand why the presence of, I assumed, a policeman would make her draw them back. She had been up from my estate long enough to know Ryan still had problems with the sun.

“Maister Becker zuggezted it, zur.” 

“He did?” Becker certainly knew better. If he felt it necessary to instruct Ethel to do so, I knew I needed to know why. “Please explain.”

Ethel nodded. “Un of the zable boyz, Matthew it war zur, er told maister Becker er ziden look at tem all curious, zur. Maister Becker beanhond ream tem mid holt en vondering. Tha'ave be all zortz norationz, zur. Every zunz thik book. Turbul liez, zur.”

I sighed. Yes, that damned book. If the Council got their hands on Stoker... or more likely on whomever had given him the information. That had been the other reason I had attended the play last night for Stoker was the manager at the Lyceum and I had wanted to see him, even though I doubted his contact would be seen publicly with him, not if he or she valued their continuing existence. I paused in thought. It was possible although unlikely that Stoker had pieced together the various tales about my kind by himself. His book certainly contained a strange mixture of weaknesses and abilities from several Bloodlines. However, I still had the strong feeling that it was one of our own who had fed him half-truths, thinking it would be amusing to announce our existence to the public. I was convinced it was also one turned in the last century or so, for only one who had never lived through the Witchhunts would risk calling one down on us. I sighed softly; whoever was responsible was a thought for another day for I had a Scotland Yard policeman to deal with. I nodded to Ethel, “Very good. I'll be down in ten minutes.” I glanced back at Ryan as I added, “I believe the study will be sufficient for my meeting. Please inform Becker we will require tea.”

“Utchy ool, zur.” Ethel bobbed again before pulling the curtains around my four-poster and plunging it into a welcoming gloom before she exited to allow me to dress in private, for I had never been one for valets.

I smiled as I glanced at Ryan. He looked so inviting and I couldn't help myself as I pressed a kiss against his forehead. I had to hold onto my control with an iron will when he moved and grabbed me most intimately. “Later, love. I have police business to attend to.” I smiled at his pout before I added, “The sun is shining, love.”

“So I heard. I'll be careful,” Ryan murmured. “I find I can cope with the sun for some considerable time now, sire. Albeit with some discomfort.”

“Excellent.” I nodded as I quickly dressed and made myself presentable. “I am impressed by your adaptation. Most of our Line take many more years to withstand sunlight as well as you have.” I remembered my own training with the sun, or rather lack of it, for I had been too terrified of the sun to risk exposure. I did not want Ryan to fear it and be dragged near screaming into its light when he was old enough to withstand it. Not when with a bit of care and practice he could walk in daylight earlier than I had. 

“I had a good teacher.” Ryan threw back the covers and I stopped breathing at the sight of him, all strong lines and firm muscle and hard cock. My cock strained towards him and I cursed softly. Appearing before a policeman, a man trained to spot details, in such a state would be most unwise. I had little time to realise Ryan's intentions before he was on me. His hands at my groin and then his mouth surrounding me as he quickly and skilfully took me to completion. Much as I usually loved the feel of Ryan's mouth on me as he sucked on my spent cock, I had a policeman to meet. I tugged on Ryan's hair and hissed as his teeth raked down my cock. Pleasure chased pain and I felt my cock twitch with renewed interest. Mmm, I had forgotten how good a little pain felt. 

“My apologies, sire.” Ryan was contrite and his fingers gentle as he checked me for any damage. 

I smiled as I pulled him to his feet, kissing him hard. “It felt good.”

Ryan looked shocked for a moment and I knew I would have to tread carefully. For all the ease he had adapted to his new life, I needed to remember he was still a product of his time. I would have to introduce him slowly to the pleasure that came with carefully applied pain. Just as my own sire had taught me. I smiled as I recalled my horrified reaction to that thought, before I understood how much pain heightened the pleasure when one was a vampire. But for now, I needed to soothe my lover, soothe and entice him. “A bit of pain can add spice to making love.”

“Really?” Ryan quirked an eyebrow, uncertainty warring with trust in his features. “It appears you have a darker side than I suspected, my sire,” Ryan said with a smile, obviously realising the irony of saying that to a creature of the night. He looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded. “I think you and I will have much to talk about later.”

I smiled for he had not recoiled from the idea as I had feared. Indeed, if he wanted to discuss it tonight... I would make it pleasurable for him. The very thought of what I could do to Ryan, what he could do to me, had my cock filling and rising again. I really didn't need either those thoughts or my rapidly growing problem when I still had a no doubt highly observant policeman to deal with in only a matter of minutes. I groaned softly as Ryan's warm mouth engulfed me once more, his teeth rasping just on the side of pain as his fingers rolled my balls. I was close and came with a muffled growl as he bit lightly at my flesh. It would appear that Ryan was a quick study... something else to think of tonight and not now. Definitely not now as I really did need to be elsewhere and reluctantly I pulled free of his mouth and tucked myself away. 

“It is a pity I have a meeting,” I sighed. He knew what effect he had on me and, when I caught his unrepentant grin, I felt fully justified to add, “And don't forget I want you practising.” I chuckled at the face Ryan pulled at the thought of being burnt by the sun. “I will send Hattie up with her special ointment.”

“Thank you, my sire. It must have been painful for you without the ointment.” Ryan shuddered, no doubt remembering the story I had drilled into him over my experiences with the sun to teach him to treat it with caution. “It must have been terrible without its help, my sire.”

I caressed his face. “All in the past, my love.”

Ryan leaned into my touch before he glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, “You better go, my sire, and see what Scotland Yard wants.”

I nodded with a sigh, “Nothing good, I am sure.” I had a bad feeling about this policeman, but that did not excuse appearing at anything but my best when I met with him. I paused and smiled as I checked my appearance in the mirror. I looked the ideal gentleman from the tips of my polished shoes to the stiff collar around my neck. I had never understood how people who needed to breathe could stand those tight monstrosities, if I still had to I would have found them suffocating. I tugged my red silk waistcoat to settle it better across my shoulders. I turned to consider my collection of cravats as I tried to decide which one to wear. 

“I think you should go with the cream one.” Ryan spoke from behind me as he fished out the cravat he had mentioned. I tried not to react to his presence, although it was difficult with him parading his lovely naked form around me. I took a deep breath as he pressed against my back and reached around to tie the cravat neatly around my neck. 

I turned around and pulled him in for another kiss. “Thank you, Ryan. Now, get dressed and stop tempting me. I have Scotland Yard to deal with.”

“I am sorry, sire,” Ryan repeated, although no where near as sincere as last time. He helped me into my frockcoat and smoothed it over my shoulders. “You look lovely, sire.”

“As do you.” I smiled and caressed his cheek, leaving him with the promise, “Until later.”


	2. Meeting Scotland Yard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sir James meets Abberline and learns why the good Inspector has come to see him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta.

I paused at the entrance to my study and took a moment to examine the man who waited for me within its refined confines. The man perusing the bookshelves that lined the walls looked more like a middle-aged bank manager or a solicitor than any policeman I had ever seen. Slightly taller than myself, portly and balding, although what remained of his dark brown hair was still untouched by grey. Nothing whatsoever stood out about him and that set my instincts on edge. “My apologies for my lateness.”

The man swung around to face me and I quickly noted his thick moustache and bushy sideburns. All in all, easily forgettable. However, I observed his hazel eyes, eyes that flickered and catalogued and saw. I quickly dismissed any thoughts that he was a fool. I would not underestimate the danger such a man as he might hold, yet I did so hope he would not prove to be a problem. Problems had to be solved and when those problems included a policeman, the solution usually created more problems than it solved. 

“Hinspector Frederick Habberline hof Scotland Yard hat your service, Sir James.”

I sat down in a rich leather chair behind my mahogany desk and indicated to the inspector that he could sit down. I nodded with satisfaction when he carefully produced a handkerchief and placed it on the leather to protect it before he sat. I steepled my hands and rested my chin on them as I regarded my visitor and I am not ashamed to admit I was curious as to why a Scotland Yard Police Inspector would have come to see me. 

I knew how most people in government saw me, a political lightweight overseeing what they believed to be a minor department as I waited to inherit my father's estate and his seat in the Lords. The subterfuge amused me and I enjoyed pretending to be my own son. It was a necessary pretence, of course, as I had held this position in government for the Council and the British Empire for more than one human lifetime. But this Inspector Abberline knew none of that, so why was he here? “And what can I do for you, Inspector?”

Abberline shifted somewhat uncomfortably under my gaze. “I have been hinstructed to request your haid in a most delicate matter, Sir James. Lord Henry Matthews himself has taken an hinterest in the case, sir, and has hinstructed Sir Charles to ask for your hexpertise, Sir James.”

I quirked an eyebrow, when the Home Secretary made requests like that, it meant only one thing. Something had occurred that came under my remit, secret to all but the highest echelons of government. Something those in the know at the Home Office considered of potential supernatural origin which they wanted stopped, one way or another. They also wanted a mundane explanation for the public and quickly, before London exploded in a mass of hysteria. The Empire did not believe in the supernatural, after all, I had spent many years ensuring that they did not. 

Abberline continued, “You have heard about the recent murder in Whitechapel, Sir James?”

I paused before recalling several rather sensational articles in the papers. “I believe I saw something about it in several of the newspapers, Inspector, so I know a little of the matter. Pray continue.”

“A local...” Abberline paused, obviously trying to think of a suitable word to describe the victim to an aristocrat such as myself.

I could think of only one class of victim he would pause over in my company and helpfully supplied the word he was so tastefully avoiding using in my presence. “Prostitute?” My lips twitched at Abberline's shocked expression at my use of the word. 

“Yes, sir.” Abberline quickly regained his poise. If he ever found out the truth about vampires that would cause a problem – if he had clear evidence, he would more likely keep a clear head rather than deny what his senses told him. I dragged my attention back to now as he continued. “The body of one Mary Hann Nichols was discovered at habout 3-40 in the morning of the 31st of Haugust in Buck's Row.”

“By?” I injected. If I was to solve this case for the Home Office I would have need of all the facts, no matter how trivial they appeared to be at first glance.

Abberline reached into his pocket and produced a notebook. He licked his index finger and flicked through the pages. “Charles Cross, a carman working for Pickfords in City Road, and a Robert Paul, a carman working in Spitalfield.” When I nodded and indicated for him to continue, he added. “Murders are not an huncommon hoccurrence in the Heast Hend, sir, but this one.” He shook his head and I had to wonder at what sort of murder could ruffle the composure of a seasoned policeman. “It was savage, sir. But what brings me to you is that when Dr Llewellyn. That is Dr Rees Ralph Llewellyn, sir. When he hexamined the victim, he reported that there was but a glass of wine and a half of blood in the gutter.”

“I do not understand how this would be of interest to Lord Henry or to myself, Inspector Abberline.” I just hoped he would get to the point, although I had my own suspicions about what he would impart. 

“Well, sir. Dr Llewellyn says he is certain she had been killed there, but there should have been more blood. The bastard.” Abberline stopped before adding, “Pardon my language, sir. But he had severed her throat to the bone and ripped open her belly.” He repeated, quieter, “Should have been more blood.”

I cursed silently. I knew exactly why Lord Henry had passed the case to me. He suspected that a vampire was involved. Bloody hell. If the Council didn't get Stoker's informant first, I would happily string him up by his ballocks and flay the hide off him. 

Abberline continued and I was grateful to hear from his voice that he did not believe the rumours. “It is that book, Sir James. The one by Stoker. It has been published in some of the papers, sir. It has got people worked up habout these blood-drinking fiends and now...” he trailed off. 

“And now you have a body lacking in blood you are afraid someone will cry it is this...?” I let my own sentence trail off, after all I did not want to appear to know too much about vampires. 

“Vampire, sir. They are called vampires. One of the lads at the station has been reading it, I am sorry to say, sir. A man neither dead or halive, but... both. The book calls them the hundead. It requires the blood of the living to keep itself hactive, sir.”

So, it was not only one of the lads reading that damnable book. Not that I said that, instead I sighed and nodded as if in understanding. Flaying wasn't good enough for the culprit. “I see. You think someone will cry this... vampire and we will have a witch hunt on our hands?” 

“Precisely, Sir James.” Abberline shuffled somewhat uncomfortably, which did not surprise me, no 'rational' man likes to talk of the supernatural. Another point in favour of Abberline, if he did not believe I should be able to knock him from the scent. He seemed a decent enough fellow and I did prefer not having to permanently deal with a policeman – too many questions usually followed when their fellow officers noticed. His next words dragged my mind back to business. “I am at a loss as to why Lord Henry requested your haid, Sir James?”

I smiled. “The Home Office does not appreciate hysteria or witch hunts, Inspector. My department’s public role is minor, so much so I imagine you are wondering why you were sent to me?” I did not wait for Abberline's response before I continued, “The Empire stretches across the world, my dear Abberline, and includes several superstitious backwaters. The government felt it prudent to set up a department, mine, to provide a rational explanation to what appears at first glance to be supernatural.” I sighed. “But, of course, this can not be announced to the public. It would hardly do Great Britain's or the Empire's reputation good to be thought of as superstitious and given to witch hunts, not in this day-and-age.”

Abberline nodded. “I see, Sir James.” 

Good man. No unnecessary questions. I waited for a suitable pause before I spoke. “If you could provide my department with the full police report, inspector, that would be a start. By tomorrow morning.” I nodded as if coming to a conclusion. “Yes. That would be excellent.”

“Sir James?”

“I want my people to examine them, personally. They might find details you have missed.” I raised a hand before the Inspector could protest. “No disrespect intended, Inspector, but your men are not trained to spot hoaxes of this nature.” 

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. Make sure everything is included. Every scrap of information, no matter how unimportant it may seem, for within it might be the hint that would lead us to this murderer.” I stood. “Now, if there is nothing else, I have pressing matters I must attend to.”

“Of course, Sir James. Scotland Yard happreciates your help. Good day, sir.”

I nodded and summoned Becker to see the inspector out. I poured myself a small brandy as I waited for Becker to return. He announced his presence by clearing his throat. “Do you require anything else, Sir James?”

I turned and smiled at Becker. He, as his family before him, was proving to be excellent retainer; which reminded me. “William, how are you parents?” 

“They are fine, sir. Mother wrote to ask me to thank you for the cottage, sir.”

I waved my hand in dismissal of his thanks. “Sally served me well for many years, William, she and your father earned that cottage.”

“Thank you kindly, sir.”

I smiled and graciously accepted the Beckers' gratitude, after all, a cottage was a small price to pay for their loyalty, especially as I had appreciated Sally's and Samuel's aid in acclimatising Ryan to his new life. 

My mind turned back to the matter at hand. “Becker, I need you to send Matthew to buy the newspapers and, indeed, the scandal sheets for me. Anything that mentions this business in Whitechapel. Provide Ned and Henry with sufficient funds and send them to the usual public houses, I want them to listen and return with any news on the subject.”

“For Scotland Yard, sir?” Becker queried.

“For the Home Office, Becker. I expect Ryan and I will be busy for the next several nights.”

“Of course, sir. I will check your special wine supply, sir.”

I smiled, that sounded an excellent idea. “I believe I will require a glass for breakfast. Have we any of that fine 18-year old left?”

“I believe we do, sir.” Becker nodded to me as he left me to peruse my letters, returning quickly with a glass filled with the finest liquid, blood-red of course, from my special cellar. I took my time savouring its sweet smell before I dipped the tip of my tongue into it. The taste was divine, exploding on my taste buds. I wanted to drain the glass dry but restrained myself, I desired to savour it. Every single sweet drop. 

“You are enjoying that.” Ryan's voice came from behind me as his fingers began to rub my shoulders. 

I moaned softly at the feel of his fingers before I held the glass out for him to take. I smiled at the contented sigh as he sipped from my glass. “How was your practice?”

“I managed slightly longer, sire.” 

Ryan replied in a way that had me looking at him closely, my eyebrow quirking as I noticed the slight red burns on his face. “Ryan?”

“Hattie has already had words with me, sire.”

“And smothered you in her ointment,” I noted quietly as I tried to gauge how hurt he was.

“Yes, sire.” He decided to change the subject and I allowed him too, for now at least. “But this vintage is excellent.”

I smiled as I decided he was only singed. Maybe this lesson would teach him not to push his limits in his quest to be out in the sunlight before he was ready. On a more practical note I quizzed him about the blood he was tasting. “It is. What is it?”

Ryan sighed softly before he took another sip. I knew he was washing it around his mouth as he sought out its unique flavour. “Is it that 18-year-old we sampled last night?”

“Excellent.” I leaned back and pulled him down for a kiss, my tongue seeking entrance before I drew his into my mouth and sucked on it. I barely managed to refrain from the temptation to sink my teeth in deep and swallow his intoxicating blood. I required a clear head for this business in Whitechapel, besides which, tonight would be soon enough to introduce Ryan to the pleasures of pain. I pulled back from his mouth and smiled at the look of need in his eyes. Oh yes, tonight would be soon enough. The anticipation would build in Ryan and he would be eager to learn what I could teach him. I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling him lean into my hand. “Break your fast with me, Ryan.” I rang the silver bell once he was seated and perused my letters as I waited for breakfast. 

“Anything of interest, sire?” 

“A letter from Christiana.” I passed it over to him. “She is enjoying Paris.”

Ryan snorted. “She is enjoying the Parisians.”

I smiled but did not respond as Becker arrived with our breakfast. I began to eat with relish and I noticed Ryan enjoyed it just as much. Once we were replete, I rang the bell again. “Please pass my compliments to Hattie for an excellent meal, Becker.”

“Especially the black pudding.”

“Of course, sir.” Becker replied. “Will you be requiring the carriage today, sir?”

I sighed softly as I considered my plans for the day. “I believe it prudent to have it ready, Becker.”

“Very good, Sir James.”

Once Becker had left us, Ryan quirked an eyebrow at me. “What did Scotland Yard want, my sire?”

I sighed. “A savage murder has occurred in Whitechapel. There is talk of the supernatural.”

“Stoker.”

I nodded in agreement. “His book has not helped.” I sighed again, “I will be out this morning at my club. Sir Charles will be there, I am certain of it, and I can find out about this Inspector Abberline.” I smiled at Ryan. “I want you to continue your studies, Ryan. I have a feeling I will be needing your help in this matter.”

“I will be most diligent, my sire.”


	3. Interludes and the beginning of the investigation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James begins his investigation into the murder before he and Ryan enjoy some time away from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta.

What a day. My carriage had been delayed by an accident between two delivery carts. Once at my club not only had Sir Charles been uncharacteristically late arriving, but he'd had very little new to tell me about either the case or Abberline. What I had learned merely reinforced my opinion of the man. A man who I would prefer on my side rather than dead in the gutter, for not only would it caused much less inconvenience, but a man such as Abberline would be a valuable asset if correctly cultivated. 

The heavens had opened as I had left my club and I was rather wet by the time I had gained my seat. At least I had been inside then, unlike poor Charlie who had been exposed to the weather. I had instructed Hattie to make him a warm toddy for the chill once we had reached my home.

****

I poured myself a glass of my special wine and sipped from it as my bath was run. I would enjoy a good soak as I let my mind wonder over my new task. It would also chase away the chill I felt in my bones, even if it was more the ghost of a memory than fact.

I groaned as I slowly lowered myself into the hot water, feeling the dirt and grime and phantom-cold wash away. I allowed my head to rest against the edge and just relaxed in the water. It felt so good. 

It felt even better when my lover's hands began to knead my shoulders before drifting over my chest. I gasped as they brushed my nipples and I felt Ryan nuzzle my neck. I moaned and lifted my hips as his hand wrapped around me and as his mouth sucked at my neck, if I had still been mortal I would have worn his mark for days. I thrust into his tight grip as he drove me to completion, gasping as I came and slumped bonelessly against the bath. I did not resist when Ryan manhandled me out of the bath, drying me roughly before settling me on the silk sheets. I smiled as he climbed in beside me, his cock hard and nudging at my hip. 

I pulled Ryan down for a kiss as I considered my options. I felt relaxed and knew I could easily take him without any preparation, but we had not yet talked about the pleasures of pain during sex and I would not force Ryan into participating without his full agreement. Instead I opened my legs and grasped Ryan's hips as I directed him where I wanted him. The feel of his slicked fingers opening me, slipping without resistance inside me, was wonderful and my cock began to firm. “Now, Ryan!”

Ryan's fingers twisted and turned for a few moments longer before he was satisfied and replaced them with his cock, stretching me wide and filling me completely. Rocking in and out of me, sending sparks of pleasure along my nerves to explode in my brain. I clenched around him and heard his answering grunt as he speeded up, soon sending me over the edge into bliss. I could feel him thrusting to his own completion as I came back down, before he groaned again and spurted in me. 

As we lay entwined and contented in the pleasurable after glow of our activities, Ryan asked, “Did Sir Charles have anything of interest to say, my sire?”

“Nothing of great importance.” I sighed. “Tomorrow morning we will go through the police reports. I want your opinion on who could have committed such a crime.” When Ryan nodded, I pulled him against me and kissed his neck. “Sleep, Ryan. Tomorrow we begin our hunt for this murderer.”

“Sire,” Ryan mumbled in agreement against my shoulder as he snuggled against me.

****

I read the police reports dispassionately and pursed my lips in thought. The injuries could have been the work of a madman... they could also have been the work of a vampire covering his tracks. The knife wounds to the neck would have hidden any puncture marks left behind on her death. One thing was clear, whoever the murderer was – man or vampire – he was bloody handed and hated women. What else could explain the savage mutilation of the abdomen? I did hope she had been dead by that point, I remembered far too well the pain and terror of having my abdomen ripped open by a blade. Feeling my life and my innards slip from that wound, the stink of fear and shit, the terror of knowing I would die and I could do nothing to prevent it.

“Sire?” 

Ryan asked as he looked up from the coroner's report, his expression one of muted horror. As I looked upon his face I found myself wondering when I had become immune to the horror of death. Looking back over the file, I knew I would once have been as horrified as Ryan on reading them... had the long centuries of... what had Abberline called it?... undeath withered my heart and soul that such images no longer move me? I hoped not, for madness lay that way. Madness and delusions of godhood. Such vampires did not last long. The Council had huntsmen to destroy them before they could bring destruction on us all. I wondered if that was why we turned mortals. To surround ourselves with young blood that still saw as the mortals did. Was that the real reason I had finally chosen to turn a mortal? My thoughts scattered when Ryan cleared his throat and repeated himself. I knew I would torment myself with such thoughts another time, but for now I had a mystery to solve. 

“Who could be responsible for such...” Ryan shook his head. 

“I do not know. I have seen the savagery man can commit on man. This killer could be a madman who thinks he is a vampire. He could have read Stoker's book and imagine himself one of us.” I sighed. “Or he could be one of us, using the savage nature of these injuries to disguise his feeding. Although there are subtler ways.” I sighed, knowing I could not dismiss the possibility as insanity could strike down a vampire. “The worse case, he could know about our kind and be attempting to start another Witch-hunt.” I shuddered as I recalled that hell when madness had seemed to grip the humans when the supernatural was mentioned. I remembered only too well the horror as humanity had turned upon the supernatural beings that co-existed, and yes, all too often preyed upon them. But blood-lust had gripped humanity and they had turned on each other, innocent souls tortured and killed in gruesome ways merely on the evidence on one person's poisonous words against another. As that evil had swept the land, the oldest of each Bloodline had set up the Council to hide the presence of the supernatural from mortal eyes, well, at least those mortals the Council had little use for. The Council had made a place for vampires within the highest echelons of mortal power. So far it had worked, but between Stoker's book and this bloody-handed killer... I feared those dark days might return. Whoever was behind this murder, I had to find him and bring him to justice – although whether by the hangman's noose or the Council's edict remained to be seen. I shuddered as I recalled witnessing the demise of a vampire, it had not been quick or easy and I knew it had been as much to punish the guilty as a warning to others not to overstep the bounds of our existence. 

“Sire?” Ryan pulled me out of my musings and against his firm chest, and wrapped his arms around me. “What ails you?”

I sighed softly. Ryan had never witnessed those days of madness. “I was remembering the horror of only a few centuries ago, when witch hunters tore across this country destroying whole families in their wake. So many innocents.” I decided not to mention the judgement of the Council, I had no wish to give voice to what I had witnessed.

Ryan snorted dismissively. “This is Victorian England, my love, the Heart of the British Empire. We are above such things.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Have you forgotten the atrocities committed during the recent Afghanistan War? No, Ryan, civilisation is but a veneer over the savage heart of humanity. A thin veneer at that. Murders and other sins are committed on the streets of London every night, nay, every day.”

“The lower class...” Ryan began but I cut him off with a shake of my head. 

“Not only them. In every club in London the landed rich and wealthy cavort with whores and gamble and indulge behind closed doors. Secure in the knowledge that such activities are secret and will never be reported. Never believed and never investigated by the police.” At Ryan's disbelieving expression I kissed him gently on the lips. “We ourselves depend upon the same, my love. Many would consider our relationship immoral, a sin blackening our immortal souls.” 

Ryan looked as if he wished to disagree with me, but instead sighed. “I know, my sire.” He shook his head ruefully, “How anyone can think our love is sinful, just because we are both men.”

“It is what the church teaches, my love. Were you not taught the same?”

“I was and I believed. I was most tormented by my feelings of desire for another man, my sire. I tried to find women attractive. I went with whores with my brothers-in-arms, but it was their fine forms that aroused my interest every time.”

I could not help my curiosity. “And your first time with a man?”

Ryan smiled at the memory. “I was young and drunk, we had been engaged in horse-play and the next we knew we were kissing and touching. It went no further than that for we had no knowledge of how two men committed sodomy.”

“And the next morning?” 

“We both denied anything had happened. Too scared to admit we found the other attractive and fearful of society's reaction to our aberrant behaviour.”

I nodded, I remembered my own first experiences with a man – or, I suppose, I should say with a vampire – I too had been raised with the firm belief two men should not lie together. It had been a wonderful surprise to discover how good it felt and I had never understood why it was held in such disdain. 

“But soon I encountered a man with more experience in Greek love. He was attentive and gentle and the feel of him inside me was exquisite.” Ryan's face was transformed by the memory; it had obviously been a wonderful time for my lover. Ryan shook his head and I wondered at the thought that had intruded in his memories and was not surprised when he changed the conversation. “You were saying, my sire.”

I paused for a moment to remember what we had been discussing. “Oh yes, human nature. It has always been the way that people will hide their illegal activities if they can. When I was alive, the nobles could legally do whatever they wished to their tenants and the poor. Today, money will still buy you power and influence and the hearts and souls of men who are greedy or just starving. On every street in the East End, prostitutes sell themselves for the price of a cup of gin to anyone who will pay.” I caressed Ryan's face. “I do not say this to shatter your illusions, but to warn you to be careful who you trust. Everyone has a price, my love.”

“Did you buy the loyalty of Becker's family?” Ryan asked impudently, a smile flickering around his lips.

I smiled fondly at him before answering him, “No, not really. The first Becker to serve me, one Roger Becker, approached me. He came to me for protection, for himself and his family.” I shook my head ruefully. “It was a shock to have a mortal approach me, telling me he knew what I was. I will admit I was curious how he knew as I had been most cautious to conceal my true nature.” I paused as I remembered my confusion and fear at being revealed as a vampire, especially in the midst of the witch-hunting hysteria that had held the country in its grip.

“How did he know?” 

“Witch-blooded, my love.”

“Becker?” Ryan could not keep the shock from his voice. 

I smiled and caressed his face. “How do you think Hattie and her ancestors brew their ointment? The knowledge of treating sunburn might be widespread, but not when it comes to the patient being a vampire” I smiled when Ryan grimaced at the mention of sunburn. “Yes, she is a Becker and a witch, which brings me back to my story.” I quirked an eyebrow at Ryan until he paid suitable attention to me. “Roger Becker swore his and his family's loyalty to me if I could stop the local witch hunter. The bastard was going through the villages picking on the unpopular and making money from the souls of the innocents he sentenced to death, and Roger feared for his family's safety for they had long been rumoured to have powers beyond the ken of man.”

“Did you stop him?” Ryan prompted, leaning forward in his curiosity. 

“Not directly. I informed Becker that the accusation of witch could easily be pointed at any individual...” I left the sentence hanging with a smile. 

Ryan laughed. “He accused the witch hunter of being a witch?”

I nodded. “The witch hunter denied it, of course, but he had no answer to the evidence discovered in his belongings and on his person. He swore he had never seen them before, that it was witchcraft. The locals agreed with him... unfortunately for him.”

Ryan laughed. “You dominated him?”

I shrugged. “It seemed the perfect solution to the problem. He might have turned his attention to me.”

Ryan shook his head. “No, my sire. You could have left the villagers to their fate if you wanted to. Helping them put you at risk. The witch hunter could have been one of the few immune to our powers.”

True, but I had not gone to that meeting unprepared. I had taken along suitable protection in case, just in case the man had been a true witch hunter and not a greedy fraud. “I was careful. Becker kept his word and came to me soon afterwards to pledge himself and his family to me. They have served me well these past centuries.” 

I stared at the report for a moment longer before sighing softly. I knew I would have to see the area for myself. Even though all traces would have been obliterated in the days since the murder, I might get some hint as to whether the killer was mortal or not. “I must see this for myself, Ryan.”

“Let me come with you, sire.” 

I looked up at Ryan and smiled, I felt him lean into my hand as I caressed his face. “No. You are not yet strong enough to withstand the sun. I...” Ryan's fingers on my lips cut off my words and I quirked an eyebrow at him, curious over why he was overstepping himself. 

“Please, sire.” Ryan ducked his head in humility. “I would feel better if I could be beside you. Protecting you.” When I did not reply, he dropped his gaze completely and bared his neck to me. “I apologise, my sire, and await your judgement.”

I considered Ryan as he waited for his punishment. He knew he had broken a rule when he had stopped me speaking, but I knew he merely wanted to protect me. He seemed to have forgotten I was centuries old and I had grown stronger with those long years, I would have little problem if any ruffian dared to assault me, but I could not fault Ryan's loyalty. 

I caressed his face softly before trailing my hand around to the back of his neck. I took a firm grip and dragged Ryan in for a kiss. I took his lovely lower lip between my teeth and sucked on it. I heard his moan and dropped my hands down to grope his arse. I finally pulled free and smiled, he looked ruffled and aroused and I knew what I would do as I felt the spark of my own arousal. “How can I punish you for caring about my safety?” I licked my lips slowly, enjoying both the taste of Ryan and his reaction to my actions. “I want you. Here. Now.”

“Take me, sire.”

“Oh, I will.” I muttered as I watched Ryan strip and bend over my desk. I quirked an eyebrow as I realised he had not bothered to wear his underwear today. “Forgot your drawers today, Ryan?”

“No, sire.” Ryan turned his head and grinned cheekily at me. “I love the feel of your silk ones against my bare skin as you take me.”

I smiled as it appeared that I had discovered a secret desire of my lover, although it made sense as he had always revelled in the feel of my silk sheets against his skin. Well, I saw no reason to disappoint him as I trailed my hand over one perfect globe. I smirked as a wonderful idea came to me and I pressed firmly on Ryan's lower back so he would hold that position. I stepped back to pull my boots off before undoing my trousers and sliding them off, carefully folding and placing them over the back of a nearby chair, my waistcoat and shirt followed as I had no wish to crease them. Clad only in my silk drawers I growled in appreciation when I turned back to view Ryan, his naked arse beckoned to me and I felt my cock grow in my drawers. 

I stepped close to Ryan and rubbed my silk-encased erection against his bare buttocks. It felt wonderful, the cool silk caressing my heated flesh as I moved and I quite understood what Ryan enjoyed about the experience. I assumed Ryan was enjoying it as much as I was as I heard his needy moans. I became lost in the sensation, feeling the silk slide across my skin as my cock nudged against Ryan's crack. 

A frustrated moan from Ryan drew my attention back to him and I stopped breathing as I took in the sight of him. His naked arse bared for my pleasure. Mine and his. I needed him. “I will take you now.”

“Please, sire.” Ryan's words were quiet but I could hear the need in them. 

I pulled open one of the desk drawers and flicked a hidden catch before reaching inside the concealed drawer for the oil I had placed within. I unstopped it, pouring a little onto my hand before coating my index finger with it. “Hold yourself open.” I gasped at the eagerness Ryan showed, his large hands reaching back and gently separating his buttocks, exposing his sweet centre to my view. I groaned softly as my cock twitched and hardened and seemed to stretch for his entrance, eager to be buried within his heat. I took a firm hold on my arousal as I began to prepare Ryan, for as much as I wanted to just take him now, hard and fast until he screamed, he had not agreed to such an act. I would not force it upon him, no matter how much I believed he would enjoy such activity. 

Instead, I gently inserted one oiled finger inside him, feeling it slide into his heated body even as his muscles contracted to keep me out. I pulled out slowly before pressing back inside, out and in, until Ryan whimpered for more. I smiled as I pushed my finger back inside and twisted it, catching his sweet spot and smiled when Ryan swore and bucked back against me. His moan was like music to my ears and I quickly pressed a second finger inside him, stretching him slightly faster than I would have normally but we both needed this. He cursed again as I added the third and opened him fully. It was such an intense sight watching my fingers disappear inside him, knowing that soon they would be replaced by my aching cock. 

I continued preparing him for a moment longer before I drew out my heavy, already-leaking cock from my silk drawers and smoothed my oil-coated palm over myself. I heard Ryan curse once more as my fingers left him bereft for an instant before I slid inside him. He opened so easily as I buried myself to the hilt inside his welcoming heat. I grinned at his sigh as I pressed close and I knew he could feel the silk, cool against his buttocks. I could feel his muscles clench and relax around me, seemingly attempting to take me even deeper inside. It was exquisite torture as I held myself still inside him, ignoring Ryan's encouragement to move, to take him. 

“Sire,” Ryan cried out. “Please. I need... umph.”

I did not give Ryan a chance to finish, instead pulling out and driving back inside, impaling him as I took him hard and fast. My fingers gripped his hips bruisingly tight as I hammered into him, hitting his sweet spot over and over again. Ryan's fingers scrabbled for purchase on my desk as he sought to shove back against me. I gave him no respite, thrusting over and over again into his firm arse until I rammed in one final time and erupted inside him. 

I came back to find Ryan mewing desperately for relief, his erect cock weeping but out of reach with me pinning him face-down to the desk. I laughed and nipped at his neck, licking the sweaty skin before letting me teeth graze his skin, the heady taste of arousal and blood sent a shiver of desire and need down my back as I took hold of his cock and straightened as I pulled him against me. Ryan bucked, not knowing whether to thrust into my hand or fuck himself on my half-hard member. He came with a strangled scream, his come shooting over my desk and, I hoped, over nothing of importance. 

As Ryan's knees buckled I removed my mouth and licked the gaze, watching as it instantly closed as if I had never inflicted it. I easily lifted and manhandled Ryan until I could sit on the chair with Ryan straddling my lap, my cock still buried inside him as I enjoyed the post-orgasmic shocks running through his body. It was a lovely sensation and I could feel my cock firm inside him. I knew Ryan could too as he groaned, muttered something about 'was I not too old to be this randy' and then proceeded to contradict himself as he rode me. He gripped the arms of the chair for support as he lifted up and I felt my cock almost slip free before he pressed back downwards until his arse was against my groin. Over and over as he made sure to slip and slide against my silk-covered groin. He didn't move fast, just slowly taking us upwards to bliss as I stroked and teased his cock, matching him stroke for stroke. It was a slow climb to ecstasy as we rocked together and came. This orgasm was softer than the previous one, spreading through my body like a warm bath rather than crashing down like a storm surge. 

I kissed Ryan's neck as I wrapped my arms around him, my fingers trailing through the come coating his stomach. “Ryan?”

“That felt wonderful, sire.” Ryan squirmed on my lap and I slipped from him as he wiggled enough to kiss me on the lips, and, I was sure, to luxuriate in the feel of silk against his skin. I cursed as his actions had my cock twitch with renewed interest and heard Ryan's laugh as he felt me firm against his arse. “Can I come with you tonight?” 

I blinked, wondering why he was asking me that as I had not stopped his orgasm... and then I remembered I was supposed to be investigating a murder not engaging in more sexual shenanigans with Ryan, no matter how tempting that thought was. I sighed. “I must admit your methods of persuasion are interesting.”

“Sire?” Ryan asked as he purposely wiggled on my lap and I had to bite back a hiss of pleasure. 

“Fine. You may come.” When Ryan looked pleased with himself, I added, “Since you look like the cat who has had the cream, maybe you'd better.” I quirked an eyebrow at him until realisation dawned on his face and he scrambled to his feet. Not for long, of course, for he quickly dropped to kneel between my spread thighs. I felt his hands run up and down my silk-clad thighs and looked down to see the contented smile on his face. “Enjoying yourself, Ryan?”

Ryan didn't answer, he merely kept fondling my silk drawers as he leaned forwards and took me in his mouth to lick and suck and tease me. I felt one of his hands slide up my thigh to grasp me most intimately between my legs, rolling my balls within the silken material. My hips rose seeking more of Ryan's hot mouth and I felt his large hands press down, trying to keep me still. If he had been mortal still, I would have been gagging him by now with my cock jammed all the way down his throat. The feel of him swallowing around me was ecstatic before he let me slip from his mouth. He grasped my cock and stroked it firmly as he teased my tip, his tongue darting into the slit before he nibbled down the shaft. I groaned as I felt my orgasm coil in my stomach. “Ryan, please.” I could feel him smile against my skin as he took me in his mouth again, sucking and swallowing around me until I gasped and jerked and came.


	4. At The Crime Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James and Ryan investigates the murder scene and question witnesses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for Fredbassett for the beta.

I had sent a message to Abberline that I planned to survey the murder site at half past three in the morning, approximately the same time Mary Ann Nichols had been killed. I expected the presence of at least one of the police constables who had discovered her body to show me where she had been found. The afternoon post brought his answer that one of his men would meet me at the end of Buck's Row and that he would be grateful for any findings I discovered. 

As I had several hours before that meeting, I spent the time sorting through my other government business. After a few hours I decided to check how Ryan was proceeding with his studies. I entered just in time to witness Ryan rubbing the ointment into his reddened skin, his face screwed up in distaste at, I assumed, the burns. “Painful?”

Ryan shook his head but still looked grateful when I held out a bottle from my special cellar. I quirked an eyebrow when he took a gulp straight out of the bottle. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sighed with satisfaction before he noticed my expression. “I apologise for my uncouth behaviour, my sire.” He shook his head. “The burns itch terribly, my sire. It must have been agonising for you.”

I nodded. “My sire took to binding my hands so I did not scratch the new skin off and gagging me when he was not pouring blood down my throat to encourage my healing.” I examined Ryan closely. “And how are your lessons going?”

Ryan stood up straighter. “I have managed to withstand the sun for almost one and one-quarter hours, my sire, before I began to smoulder and had to step into the shadows.”

“Good. Your progress is excellent.”

Ryan smiled in relief. “Thank you, sire.”

We relaxed and shared a bottle of wine, kissing softly and enjoying each other's company as we waited for the appointed hour. It was coming up to one in the morning when Becker knocked on the door. “Sir, your carriage is ready.”

“Thank you, Becker.” I allowed Becker to help me into my overcoat and then waited as he helped Ryan into his. “Come, Ryan, we must be going.”

****

I smiled as I watched Ryan peering out at the city streets as Charlie guided my carriage to the murder site. Ryan was no doubt looking for the differences and similarities with the world he had once known. I found myself musing over the changes to this great city I had witnessed over the centuries until Charlie's voice informed me we had arrived.

I clambered out of the carriage to see that we had stopped at a crossroads. As I glanced around the area, I noticed the only illumination came from a single lamp we had stopped under and it did little to pierce the fog that had descended during our journey. Ryan joined me and we waited for the arrival of Abberline's man. “Charlie, stay with the horses.” 

“Zur.”

I paused as I pulled my overcoat tighter around me. “If it comes on to rain you may shelter in the carriage.” 

“Thank 'ee, zur.” He settled in his seat and I noticed his hand was stroking the heavy cudgel he kept close when we were about during the night. 

The scuff of boots on cobblestones made me turn to look down the street and I soon spotted the caped figure of a policeman coming towards us. “Ryan, be ready,” I muttered to my lover as we waited for the man to join us. 

The man stopped before us and I took a moment to examine him. He was smartly turned out, his hair neat and receding to a widow's peak even though he appeared only to be in his late 30s. His handlebar moustache was neatly trimmed. All in all, he looked suitably respectable.

The man nodded in greeting. “PC John Neil, Sir James. T'inspector sent me, sir.”

I inclined my head in acknowledgement. “You discovered the body?”

“Yes, sir.” Neil's replied as he pulled out his notebook. “I were on me beat duty, sir, and discover'd t'body at approximately 3.45am on t'31st of August.” I nodded for him to continue. “I 'ad come from Thomas Street and were 'eading eastward t'ward Brady Street, sir. That be this street we be on now, sir. It were as I were walking along Buck's Row.” Here he paused to point down the street on my right. “Down t'far end, sir, were where I found t'body. I could 'ear PC John Thain walking along Brady Street and summon'd 'im with me lamp, sir. It weren't long before we be joined by PC Jonas Mizen, 'e 'ad been alerted by Charles Cross and Robert Paul.” Neil shook his head as he gazed down the street. “I don't understand it, sir. I swear I sees no one. No one and I 'eard nothing either, sir. T'furthest I'd gone from t'murder spot all night were Baker's Row, sir.”

Damnation. It made it all the more likely this crime had been committed by a vampire. “What did you do next, PC Neil?”

“Well, sir, with t'aid of me lamp I could see t'wound t'er, Nichol that be, sir. T'er throat and that there were little blood still oozing out. So I feels 'er arm and it were still warm. 'Er eyes they was wide open and 'er bonnet were lying nearby as knock'd from 'er 'ead. I immediately despatch'd PC Thain t'fetch t'doctor, that were to Dr Llewellyn, and I told PC Mizen t'fetch t'ambulance, sir.”

I nodded. All standard police procedure and nothing that indicated that Neil had been unduly influenced by a vampire, unnecessary if he had been far enough away when the murder had occurred. “Please continue.”

“As I were waiting for t'doctor,” Neil's leafed through his notebook, “I were joined by 'Enry Tomkins, James Mumford and Charles Bre'on, sir, who work at 'Arrison, Barber & Co. They're 'orse slaughterers in Winthop Street, sir. That's t'next street over, sir, and I 'ad saw them at 3.15 on me beat.” He glanced at his book again before he continued, “I rang t'bell of Essex Wharf t'enquire if they 'ad 'eard a disturbance and they 'ad not, sir. Then I examined t'area around t'body and found no traces o'wheel marks. I remain'd with t'body in accordance with procedure until it were remov'd t'mortuary, sir.”

“Very good.” I glanced around the area. “Now, can you show me exactly where you discovered the body?”

“O'course, sir.” 

PC Neil led myself and Ryan down the street, away from the light and into the gloom, I quickly noted that all the residential houses were on the south side of the street with the north being given over to warehouses. I could hear the sounds of a train and realised we were heading towards the Underground tracks. Although we stopped short of them at the entrance of Brown's stableyard and I could clearly see how close to the window of one Mrs Emma Green it had been. She proved her claim to being a light sleeper by opening her window to see who was outside in the street. I left Neil to answer her questions as I considered the scene. Her appearance added to my belief that no mortal man could have committed this crime.

I caught Ryan's eye and he gave me a slight nod as he obeyed my silent instruction. He stepped over to PC Neil and Mrs Green to ask her questions, and distract them from what I was doing. I closed my eyes and concentrated before opening them, I was careful to keep my back to the mortals as my eyes had taken on an eerie glow. I could see the traces left by the passage of mortals along the street, overlapping and interweaving until I could not follow one for more than a few feet before it merged with the rest. I sighed and knew I would not be able to pick out the pale trace left behind by a vampire. I closed my eyes again as I let my heightened senses return to my normal vampiric level. 

I almost jumped as the nearby church clock struck, its peels painfully loud to my still sensitive ears. As I registered the time I glanced eastwards at the first pale streaks that heralded sunrise. It was time to go home before the sun rose and before Ryan suffered from its burning rays. 

I turned to Ryan to inform him it was time for us to leave and paused as I detected the sound of drunken footsteps coming towards us. I looked up and spied two women, from their dress and condition I would easily label them as drunken prostitutes, staggered down the street towards us. One waved at us and called out, “PC Neil, who's t'toffs?”

The second one was rather more direct. She lifted her skirts to display her nakedness and called out, “Want t'put Nebuchadnezzar out t'grass, me fine coves? Thruppence for yer.”

Neil spoke up. “Gets 'er out o'here, Halice. These fine gents 'ave work t'do.”

“Jacks are they? You get that trasseno who done murdered Polly?” Alice spoke up as she helped hold her friend up. 

I assumed she thought we were police detectives investigating the murder and had no wish to dissuade her of that thought. I did, however, almost sigh when Ryan nodded and told them we would. I knew the savagery of the murder had discomforted him, but I could only hope he had not promised something we could not deliver. If the culprit was a vampire as I believed, he could hardly be paraded through the streets or have his day in court. No, the Council would deal with him and the mortals would know nothing, except that the murders had stopped. 

I almost shook my head as I watched the prostitutes resume staggering down the street, even with a murderer on the prowl they seemed not to care for their safety; but then, this was the East End and murders were more common for the inhabitants than meat. I had seen enough and wanted only to be home with Ryan in my arms. “You may continue on your beat, PC Neil.”

“Thank yer, sir.” 

I watched Neil headed off up the street before turning to Ryan. “Home, Ryan. I feel a great weariness in my bones and the sun rises soon.” 

Once we had relaxed in the deeply-cushioned seats, I turned my attention towards Ryan and quirked an eyebrow. “Did you learn anything of importance from Mrs Green?”

Ryan looked thoughtful before replying. “I think so, my sire, but I am not sure.”

“Pray tell and let me be the judge of that,” I told him, my mind already halfway to thinking of my bed and Ryan in it. 

Ryan nodded and pulled out the notebook he had taken to carrying. “Mrs Green sleeps in the front bedroom, that is the window she looked out of tonight. She told me she just did not understand how she had not heard the murder. The first she knew of it was when a policeman knocked on her door several times as 4am that morning. She claims she was shocked to open her window and find several police constables and other men, as well as Nichol's body, my sire.” Ryan checked his notes again before adding, “She kept repeating she did not understand it, that she usually woke as the police constables walked past her window. I do not understand either, my sire. If she woke at our passing, why did she not hear the murderer?”

I sighed softly and, at Ryan's querying look, explained. “I believe Mrs Green was woken by the murder and indeed, that she opened her window and looked out to see the murder, or most likely the mutilations, committed under her very nose.”

“But... how can she not remember the murder, my sire? Do you think the killer is a vampire? That he dominated her mind so she did not see?”

“Not necessarily, my dear Ryan. I have seen the aftermath of outrages where the victim could not remember the act, so horrified by what had happened that the memory had fled. Sometimes the memory returned but it was a kindness when it did not.”

Ryan nodded. “I can understand how such a sight could drive the wits from her, my sire. Even reading the details left me unsettled.”

I leaned forward and caressed Ryan's face, smiling as he leaned into my touch. “We find ourselves with multiple possibilities, my love. Firstly, that our killer is a mortal and the horrific sight that greeted Mrs Green's eyes caused her memory to flee from her. I am not a doctor, but she might not have heard the police until later if she had been in shock.”

“I have seen men on the battlefield ignore explosions almost on top of them when in shock, my sire.” I was pleased that Ryan agreed with my first option, and I could only pray to any god that would accept them that the killer was a mortal. Although there was an alternative, one too terrible to consider, although I knew I must. 

“There is another possibility, that the killer is indeed a vampire who dominated her to not see or remember the events.” Although why had he not killed Mrs Green too? That small detail caused problems with my theory. Memory loss did not require the killer to directly interact with Mrs Green, vampiric domination did. So why leave her alive?

“After killing Nichols, why would he not kill the witness?” Ryan echoed my thoughts. 

“Quite.” I sighed softly. “It is possible that he only kills prostitutes or ...” I shook my head. “I do not know, my love. However, for whatever reason he dominated her, the killer might have projected too much of his power when he commanded her to forget what she had witnessed and to go back to sleep. Indeed, if Mrs Green was highly susceptible to the effect, he could have affected her more than he planned. It might explain why the several men outside her window had not woken her.”

“Can you sense if she's been dominated?” Ryan asked and I was pleased to see he had asked a sensible question. 

“There are some small signs for domination but they are not always reliable.” I raised a hand to forestall Ryan's request. “And I will teach them to you when you are ready to learn them.” I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “For now, I see we have no choice but to go through the witness statements once more and see if there are any others that hold similar contradictions. I will question the witnesses and see if they show signs of having been dominated.” I held up a hand as Ryan opened his mouth to disagree. “No, Ryan. You will stay inside and study.” At his pout, I smiled and added, “For now, my love. I want you by my side.”

“Yes, my sire.” Ryan still sounded a bit surly and I quirked an eyebrow at him. “Sorry, sire.” He took a deep breath before asking, “Will you be able to learn his identity?”

I sighed. “I fear not, but I might find some trace or clue that he has left. Something I,” I paused and smiled at him as I corrected myself. “That we can use to find him before he kills again.”

“You think he will?” Ryan sounded horrified at that thought and I did not blame him. 

“Yes, though whether out of his apparent hatred of women, a need for some occult ceremony I do not want to imagine or just the thrill of terrorising the mortals, I know not. But I do know he will kill again.”


	5. Asking A Boon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After reviewing the crime reports, James knows he must inform the Council of his suspicions and ask them for a boon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta.

I was lying in my bed with Ryan's head on my breast as his soft snores filled the night's air but I could not find my own rest. My mind returned to the murder scene and to the statements of the residents. After seeing the area I could not shake the feeling that the murder was the work of one of my own kind. No matter my words to Ryan that shock could have caused the memory loss Mrs Green had experienced, I knew it had not. I saw no other way such a crime could have been committed beneath her window as she had since proven her claim to being a light sleeper who woke with the slightest noise. Nothing other than the power to dominate a victim into quiescence would explain what had happened, but for what purpose? Why would any of my kind do such a thing? With retainers it was not even necessary to kill to feed. I feared I faced a rabid vampire and, as with dogs carrying the same affliction, there was only one thing that could be done. 

I sighed softly. I would have to contact Abberline in the morning. There would be more murders and I would inform him to send for my presence immediately. I needed to see a murder scene for myself, and within a few hours of the crime, to confirm if I truly was dealing with one of my own kind. As it was, I would have to inform the Council of my suspicions, a task I did not look forward to. Not so much that I suspected any of them of complicity, of course, but... I sighed softly. News of my investigations would no doubt reach the killer's ears once I had met with the Council... if it had not already done so.

****

I had sent Ryan off to study under the watchful eye of Hattie while I spent the day re-reading the witness statements. I was looking for the pieces that did not fit, the gaps in the statements or anything else that looked... I supposed wrong would have been the correct word. I perused the statement of one Patrick Mulshaw, employed to watch over the sewer works on Winthrop Street during the night, and sighed as I put it to one side. The fact he had not seen anyone suspicion or heard cries for help did nothing to answer the question of whether the killer was mortal or vampire as a hand over her mouth and lack of air would have silenced Nichols as easily as a vampire dominating her into silence. Whichever the answer was, I still saw no reason to re-question Mulshaw about the events of that night for I could not see what he would have to add to my investigation.

I continued to look through the statements, discarding most as irrelevant for discovering the killer's identity. I paused as I came to the statement of one Walter Purkiss, the manager at Essex Wharf. He and his wife slept in the front room on the first floor, a room which overlooked the murder site. Both had been awake at various times on the night of the 30th, but had heard nothing unusual during that period. I considered that statement several times before I sighed softly. Although both had stated they had not looked out of the window I knew I would have to check their story myself. If I found traces of domination I would know if the killer was a vampire, if I did not... I closed my eyes and let my head loll against my chair. If I did not it would not necessarily mean the killer was a mortal. One of my kind skilled enough to remove a mortal's memory might also be skilled enough to hide his presence. I saw no option but to hear their story for myself. But in the morning, after my meeting with the Council, so I saw no reason to mention their possible involvement while I was there. 

That still left Mrs Emma Green as the only witness I definitely knew had seen the murder, and more importantly, the murderer. I pondered whether to visit her once I had seen the Purkiss', but dismissed the idea. I was almost certain I could recover the memory, whether lost from shock or taken through domination, but it was a harrowing experience for a mortal. She was old and I felt remembering the murder would be too much for her. I decided mentioning her involvement to the Council would not be a good idea, they would have no such problem in ordering her questioned and it would be an even chance whether she would survive the experience or not. 

It would be far easier if I could gain the services of a Seer, one who could glean the information without the need to subject mortals to horrors. Not that I would admit to the Council that part of my reason for wanting a Seer, many of them would not understand why I was concerned with not causing harm to a mortal if I had a choice.

****

I hated coming here. I could feel the miasma of death at my shoulder and shivered, but I could not tarry, the Council awaited me inside and they did not like to be kept waiting. I used my cane to hit the door several times and listened to the measured treads of the butler as he approached.

The door creaked open and I had my first look at the current butler. He was gaunt almost to the point of starvation; his translucent white skin stretched drum-tight over his bones. In sharp contrast to his jet black hair and eyes that lacked any white. Another servant of the Council and I had no wish to know where they had found him as I knew he was not human – at least, not entirely human. His voice was deep and sombre. “The Council is expecting you, sir. Please follow me.”

His limbs seemed barely connected to his body as he walked, he almost seemed to fall before a foot somehow twisted to keep him upright. He reminded me of a scarecrow wearing a human skin... I shook myself from those thoughts, for I had no real wish to know where the Council obtained their servants. I felt death's chill creep into my bones as I followed hard on his heels, for the sooner I spoke to the Council, the sooner I could return to the comfort of my bed and to Ryan's arms. 

The butler opened a set of doors and waited for me to enter. I almost rolled my eyes at the opulence within, even greater than the last time I had stepped inside the chamber. Someone had more money than taste but I knew better than to voice that thought. This was the meeting chamber of the Council and it was wise not to upset them. 

“Jamesssss.” 

I turned to face the man who had called my name, smiling and half-bowing to him. “My Lord.” 

I had no difficultly keeping the smile on my face as he stepped into the light. I had met this vampire many years before when I still travelled with my sire. His ruined face and twisted body no longer horrified me as it did on our first meeting. He had been most kind not to punish my slip, nor to allow my sire to do so, instead he had demanded I served him at dinner and I had soon forgotten his appearance as he had talked of the various wondrous things he had seen and read about. He was one of the elders I had hoped to meet tonight, for even though he belonged to a different Line than my own I counted him as an ally, if not a friend. He was also the first vampire not of my Line that I planned to introduce Ryan to, once his training was completed. 

“To what do we owe this meeting?” 

I winced slightly at the superior tones and saw My Lord swiftly smother his smile at my reaction. I rolled my eyes in response before assuming the mantle of the perfectly mannered gentleman and turning to face My Lady. She was unearthly beautiful but with her bluish skin-tone marring her appearance, no one would ever mistake her for being alive. I remembered that her personality was as cold as her appearance. She might not look like a monster, unlike My Lord, but I knew if I had made that mistake with her, I would have been flayed before being returned to my sire and his care. At least my punishment would have ended there as I was not of her Line. I had heard of another, one of her own Line, who had made a minor mistake in etiquette. I understood his sire had been ordered to continue the flaying every night for a week while denying blood and the healing it brought to the boy. It was vampires such as My Lady who reminded me just how monstrous we could become, and I feared the killer had once been like her, before he had lost his tenuous grip on his remaining humanity and become as a beast. 

But that was not a thought to be mused about in these chambers, instead I cleared my throat softly. “A situation has arisen, My Lady. One that I feel the Council should be aware of.”

“Get on with it, lad. No need for fancy words. Not with me and My Lord.” The man who spoke was grizzled and blond-haired, his one eye glaring balefully out of his scarred face. 

I smiled in greeting even as I thought, good, at least two of the three did not dislike me. “Hrothgar.” He never stood on principle and I imagined that upset My Lady somewhat. “Elders, I trust you know of Stoker's book?”

“Is that all you have called us here for?” My Lady did not look pleased and I could not help swallowing, even though I knew she could not harm me for requesting a meeting with the Council if I felt the need. She could, however, make life difficult, especially for Ryan when I presented him to become a full member of our society. 

“No, My Lady. A murder had occurred in Whitehall. One I fear must be the work of one of our kind.”

My Lord's eyes narrowed. “Are you ssssure?”

I sighed. “Not entirely, My Lord. I regret that the savage nature of her injuries have destroyed any signs of a vampire attack.”

“Then how can you be sssssure a vampire issss resssponssssible?”

“She was killed without anyone hearing her cry out in fear or pain, without any sign she struggled for her life, My Lord. The coroner's report also notes a lack of blood – both within and without her body. The evidence all points towards one of our kind.”

My Lady quirked an eyebrow. “Dominating a mortal's will? That would indicate the killer is one of your Line, James.”

Before I could reply, My Lord did. “Assss it isssss your Linesssss, My Lady.” He smiled softly, “We can not asssssume thisssss killer belongsssss to any particular Line.”

“Well, he is not one of mine,” Hrothgar growled. “None of mine learn such tricks.” The distaste he put into the last two words had my lips twitching and turned My Lady's wrath on him. Which I knew Hrothgar had done deliberately. He took delight in baiting My Lady whenever he had the opportunity.

“What do you need from usssss, Jamessss.”

Good, the pleasantries were over with. “I have been instructed by the Home Office to investigate this crime and have informed the police that I am to be summoned immediately when another murder occurs.”

“Anything else?” My Lady's words implied I had forgotten something and I had to fight to keep my smile from my face. 

“I have, of course, instructed them to leave the crime scene untouched. If they follow my instructions correctly I have hopes that the area will hold traces that will enable me to identify the killer.” I paused as I considered my next words, but to investigate properly – to have the ability to question any vampires I suspected knew something, anything of this matter – I would need the Council to grant me permission. “I would humbly request the Council's boon.”

“For what purposssse, Jamessss?” 

My Lord asked quietly and I was almost certain he knew what I would request. His slight nod as I made my request merely confirmed my suspicion. “To question others of our kind, My Lord. I believe that I must be given a free hand if I am to learn the killer's identity.”

“You ask for much.” My Lady's voice was still cold. I had known she would not want to grant me that power, but I had wielded it before in my duties and had not overstepped my bounds. I was still alive, after all. 

“I know, My Lady.” I waited patiently for her – their – decision. Without that boon my hands would be tied. I would have trouble even asking another vampire questions without causing offense, let alone demanding they answered me. The Council would not move against one who refused to answer, freedom to keep secrets was a written part of the Treaty which had created the Council. After all, many of my kind had long-term plots in motion which they would not want revealed. 

“We mussst refussse your requessst, Jamessss,” My Lord informed my solemnly. “If you can bring ussss proof that the killer issss definitely a vampire, we may reconssssider your requessst.”

“I understand, My Lord.” I nodded, it was the answer I had expected but I had had to ask. I took a deep breath; I had not only come before the Council to inform them I suspected a rabid vampire was in our midst or to request their boon. I had something even greater to ask, a request that they would need time to fill, if they granted it, one I had not wanted to ask but now I had no choice. “I would then request the services of a Seer.” I deliberately kept my gaze on the floor as a supplicant to the Council should, even if that was not the whole reason. I knew My Lady would take my request badly, she had a hatred of Seers and I really did not want to delve into the reason. I sensed My Lord and Hrothgar exchanging looks and knew they knew it was not just good manners that kept my eyes directed downwards. 

Hrothgar broke the silence. “You think the situation is that serious?”

I did not reply immediately as I chose my words carefully. “Normally, no. However, with Stoker's book...” I paused as I heard My Lady's low growl. “The Home Office and the police both believe the people will connect the crime to vampires and fear a mob will rise. If there are more murders, stories will spread and they will reach the ears of our enemies. The Witch Hunters might be quiescent, but I believe they would investigate such stories.”

My Lord sighed. “And if thisssss mob stumblessss acrossss one of our kind, esssspecially a young one, or the Inquisssssition arrivesssss on our ssssshoressss, you fear it could be a return to the Witch Huntsssss of old?”

I did not need to answer. We had all witnessed those dark days and knew humanity could easily fall into the same superstitions again. I stood silently and respectful as I sensed the Council's deliberations and held my breath for their decision. If they refused my request... I knew not my next step in this investigation. With my hands tied and without the Seer's knowledge of the future, I would remain several steps behind the killer without hope of gaining ground. I would also be blamed for not solving the murders if the Inquisition arrived to investigate, even though I had no chance to do so. I almost closed my eyes at that thought, if the Council refused this request I would have no choice but to send Ryan away for his own safety. Far enough from me that my disgrace would not blacken his reputation – perhaps to Christiana – she might not be his sire, but she was of my Line and could continue his training.

“Very well. You may have your Seer.” My Lady's voice was cold and I vowed to get the Seer out of London as soon as possible. For her own safety as much as for mine. 

“Thank you, My Lady.” I bowed to her, before waiting to be dismissed from their presence.

“Jamessss. You will keep ussss informed of any new murderssss or newsss in your hunt for the killer.”

“Of course, My Lord.” I had feared I would be told to do so. The less time I spent within these damned walls the better, but I could not disobey a direct order from the Council. I waited until My Lord nodded dismissal and left with a measured tread. It would not do to show fear in these walls, any more than it would to show arrogance. 

I did not breathe easily until I was once more in my carriage with the comforting sounds of hooves on cobblestones. Once hidden from prying eyes, I sighed and even let my posture slip as relief flooded through me. Of course, I now had to hope that I was correct this killer was a vampire. Now I had requested the aid of a Seer, My Lady would make things difficult if I was wrong about the culprit. I could still send Ryan to Christiana if necessary, but I was reasonably sure I could ride out the backlash from such an error. It was, after all, my role to hide the presence of the supernatural from mortal eyes, at least, it was for now. 

I shook my head. No, I knew I was right and even if I was not, worrying about it would not help me. I would have to face the Council's punishment and hope that My Lord and Hrothgar would protect Ryan from My Lady's wrath if she turned on him in her rage. But I knew I was not wrong, it was a vampire committing these crimes. I just had to prove it and do so before My Lady lost patience with me.

****

The Purkiss' had proven to be a dead end. They had shown none of the side effects of domination and I believed they had truly seen nothing that night. It made me doubly glad I had not mentioned their names to the Council as I was sure My Lady would have had them taken and questioned and I would probably have been reading of their unfortunate deaths in the papers.

With no more leads to follow, I could do nothing but wait for the next murder and fret that I should have questioned Mrs Green myself. I had had the chance as she had seen me leaving the Purkiss' and offered me a cup of tea and some of the wonderfully tasty scones she had just made. We had been alone in her house, I could have easily dominated her and broken the conditioning, but I told myself that I had been seen entering the premises, if she was found dead or mad I would be a suspect and I could not afford that. In truth, a truth I only reluctantly admitted to myself, she reminded me of one of my nurses when I had been a boy, the one who had wiped my tears and cleaned my scraped knees. The one who I had run to for comfort after witnessing the execution of the first man I had sentenced to hang in my father's name. I had had to grow up fast as I acted in my father's stead when he had been away fighting our enemies. 

I tried to read the various reports about other potential trouble spots within the Empire, but could not settle for long on any of them. My mind kept being dragged back to the murder and to the vampire who had carried out the savage act. I could not help remember the play I had seen only a night or so ago. Was this killer someone I knew, someone who presented a respectable façade to the world but, at night, turned into a monster just as evil and murderous as Mr Hyde? 

I sat with my head in my hands for sometime before I hear my study door open. After a few moments, hands squeezed my shoulders and Ryan coaxed me into our bed. I let him do as he would with me as I lost myself in his attention. Desperate to forget the events of today and the mistake I feared I had made.


	6. Another Murder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sir James Lester investigates another gruesome murder in the East End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta.

The next morning I was woken by the sound of the door knocker being rapped hard and blinked blearily around our still-darkened room, although I could sense that the sun had risen shortly before. Who would be rousing the house at this early hour? It took but a moment for me to realise another murder had been committed and I might be a step closer to finding this madman. Guilt followed quickly that another mortal was dead and I should have felt sorrow for her suffering, not happiness that I might solve the murders. My emotions were confused and I was convinced meeting Mrs Green and recalling my boyhood had not helped my situation, but no matter, I had a job to do and I would do it. I nudged Ryan and, at his muttered moan, spoke. “I must dress, my love. I fear we have Scotland Yard at the door and that another murder has been committed.”

Ryan muttered several uncomplimentary comments about the murderer, and about the police knocking on our door. “I will get dressed.”

I leaned down and kissed him, smiling as I remembered the ecstasy when we had shared our bodies last night. “No, my love. The sun has already risen. I will be swift.”

Ryan pulled me down and kissed me hard. “Damn this weakness to the sun.”

I smiled. “Be glad you are of my Line. Few others can withstand even what you can now.”

Ryan sighed. “So you have taught me, sire, and I have learned.” He shivered and looked towards the window as the merest hint of daylight crept through the thick drapes. “To never feel the sun on my skin again, I know not how the other Lines stand it.”

“They all have other gifts and seem content in their night.” I murmured, remembering when I had asked My Lord the same question. 

_I had been nervous, fearing I had overstepped some boundary but he smiled. “I will not punisssssh you for wanting to ssssatissssfy your curiossssity, young one. I too ssssssought anssswersssss to questionssssss. My mind, you ssssee, was alwayssss sssharp, but my body deformed, my face twissssted and my sssspeech.” He smiled and I knew he meant he had always spoken with a hiss. “Yessss, my family ssssaid I had been sssscared by a viper asss a child, my voice echoing itssss hissss when I sssspoke. I knew I would never be accepted, never have a wife, so I chossse to hide my face behind the cowl of a monk. I was never really accepted by them, they believed my form was God'sss punisssshment for ssssome wickednessss, but they were quite content to leave me forgotten in the library. When my ssssire approached me, it wasss with questionsss. At firssst they were easssy to ansssswer. Later, I had to sssscour the manusssscriptsss closssely and sssspent long hourssss ssssearching for him. When he finally revealed himsssself to me, I ssssaw he was as dissssfigured as I. He offered me an eternity of ressssearch and I jumped at the chance. Sssso, yessss, young Jamessss, I have alwayssss looked like thisssss. My Line ssssiressss from thossssse whosssse livessss have been blighted, whether by appearance or manner. My Bloodssssisssster hassss perfect lookssss, but ssssshe wasss too timid to take the praissssse due to her, letting another take the credit for her work. Now, ssssshe is happy ssssearching for ansssswersssss, knowing our Line valuessss her work.”_

The repeated sharp rap on the door broke my musing and I looked up into the amused face of my lover. “Tonight you will have to tell me what you were remembering with such a fond smile, my sire, for it is good to see you smile at a memory, not scowl as you did last night.” Ryan said before gently kissing my forehead. “But, for now, Scotland Yard is at the door and waking the household.”

“We will see, my love.” I longed to stay in Ryan's arms but duty called and I reluctantly pulled free. I swiftly dressed and was about to exit the room when I turned and kissed Ryan hard, nipping his lip. “I will miss your presence at my side.”

“I will study diligently, my sire.” Ryan gently pushed me towards the bedroom door. “Hurry and return to me.”

I nodded, willing the day to come when Ryan could once more feel sunlight on his skin without fear, when he could accompany me or not at his leisure. “I will, my love.” I turned and sped down the hall, only slowing at the stairs, but even then I was downstairs almost before Becker sleepily answered the door to my visitors.

****

I leaned back in the cushioned seat of my carriage and listened to the clatter of hooves on cobblestones as Charlie directed us through the streets to the East End. It looked as if it would be a brilliant autumnal day, although still on the chilly side. I could still smell the dampness in the air and looked up at the partly overcast sky. As I did so I wrinkled my nose at I was assaulted by the mixture of smells that characterised any low-class slum.

I found myself longing for Ryan, wishing he could have sat beside me and aided me in this task, but I knew he was not yet strong enough to stand the light of the sun for the amount of time we would be out, not without the risk of his flesh smouldering. The last thing I wanted was to present a keenly observant man such as Abberline with proof of the supernatural, even if his rational mind would have dismissed such a thought. At least to begin with. 

But soon, I hoped, Ryan would have mastered our ability to withstand sunlight. I hoped that his gradual exposure to the sun would speed the process of adaptation, especially with the help of the ointment that aided his healing. I wished I had had it in my first days, in the aftermath of my own burning encounter with the sun. As it was, I had been so terrified by that memory that my sire had had to drag me into the street in the end. I had to admit to idle curiosity as to how the other Lines activated their abilities, but I had never asked, just as I would never discuss the training of one newly-turned to my Line.

I shook my head to clear such irrelevant thoughts from my mind as I needed to concentrate my full attention on my task. I felt my carriage slow and heard the neigh of one of the matched black pair that pulled it. “Eazy, boyz.” Charlie's voice sounded behind me and he knocked on the flap before opening it. “Zur Jamez? Yer uz be, zur.”

“Very good, Charlie.” I nodded and clambered down to the street at the bells tolled for quarter past seven. I looked around to locate the murder site and quickly spotted several blue-uniformed policemen. I sighed, for they would have trampled through the murder site and muddled any evidence the murderer had left. I would have little chance of discovering who was behind the crime, yet alone anything I could use to even narrow my list of suspects. I would have to wait for the Seer to discover his identity... or wait until the next time he killed and try once more to glean any information from the near bloodless scene. 

“Sir James.” Abberline gave me a respectful nod. “I hope this morning finds you well.”

“It does,” I replied as I moved towards him and the men gathered near him. “Have my instructions been followed?” I asked as I attempted to ignore the enticing scent of spilt blood in the air. When I looked into the yard I was pleasantly surprised to see it looking remarkably undisturbed. 

“One of my hofficer's checked for life, Sir James, and the good Dr Phillips has hexamined her, but mostly the yard has been left huntouched.” I smiled at Abberline's statement, with such little contamination I might have a chance to identify the murderer, or at least gain some idea as to his identity. Abberline looked behind me before asking, still most respectfully, “Pardon my curiosity, Sir James, but where are your men?”

I smiled. “I wished to see the site for myself, inspector. I have sent for a specialist but they will not arrive in time to examine this site.”

“You would wish to have the yard preserved?” Abberline looked around and shook his head, no doubt hoping I would say no. I took a quick glance around and saw what he did. The yard would be impossible to keep intact enough for the Seer to gain any information. 

“No, inspector.” I sighed, “I am afraid the next murder will have to suffice.”

“Next?” Abberline jerked around to face me. “You believe there will be more?”

“You do not?” I enquired. “He has committed two murders, Inspector, possibly more. No, this madman will strike again. You know that as well as I.”

Abberline nodded. We both knew that the murderer would kill again. Until he was stopped. 

I followed Abberline through the yard's entrance and almost stopped at the sight of the man inside. For an instance I believed he was a vampire. He was in his fifties, but it was his old fashioned clothing that made me wonder – he would not have looked out of place a century ago. I soon discerned that he was not as I could tell his heartbeat and his breathing were not affectations. “Sir James, this is Dr George Bagster Phillips, the Police Surgeon of 'H' division. Dr Phillips, if you could give us your findings.”

Dr Phillips proved to be charming of manner and of great skill. His voice was soft as he spoke. “Yes hinspector. Sir James.” He nodded respectfully at me. “The body was cold when I harrived, sir, halthough the...” He paused before enquiring, “Do you want hall the details, sir?”

I nodded, “I need to know everything, my good doctor. In truth, I believe I must view the body.” I managed to sound both professional and slightly disturbed by that thought. With the heady scent of spilt blood in the air I was glad I had stopped for a glass or two of my special wine to break my fast or I might have looked far too eager to view the body. At the doctor's dubious expression, I added, “I promise you, I have a strong stomach.”

Dr Phillips nodded, although I was not convinced he believed my declaration. “This way, sir.” He led both myself and Abberline towards the fence that surrounded the yard, to a sack-covered form that lay on blood-sodden dirt. 

“If you would be so kind as to remove the cover, doctor,” I murmured as I extended my normal senses to their utmost. I could almost feel him, a tantalising familiarity, which did not help as I knew most of the vampires who called London home. Instead I turned my attention to his latest victim. She was short, I would have guessed somewhere around five foot tall, and of stout build, even though she had to look of being under-nourished. Her dark, wavy hair formed a halo around her head and I couldn't help wondering if she was now in a better world. She was wearing the typical clothes of a poor woman. I saw nothing that marked her out in any way from the typical inhabitants of the East End. “Who discovered her?”

Abberline leafed through his ever-present notebook. “A John Davis, a carman. He discovered her a little before 6am. He lives on the third floor with his family, sir.”

I nodded as I considered the body before me. Her left arm had been placed across her left breast. Her knees had been drawn up with the feet resting on the ground and the knees turned outwards. I had to wonder if the killer was mocking her in death by putting her in such a pose, for with the filth on the streets no one, whore or customer, would sully their clothing by lying in the muck. Her face was bruised and turned to the right side and I could see the tip of her tongue protruding between her front teeth. I had the distinct feeling that she had been unwell, perhaps even dying, when she had met her unfortunate fate.

It was plain to see that the murderer was a savage beast. She was terribly mutilated, her throat deeply severed once more, the wound jagged and nearly decapitating her. I was convinced that was to hide the puncture wounds left from an unhealed vampire bite. I looked around for blood but apart from smears on the wooded paling and some absorbed into the dirt, there was a marked absence of it. Again pointing towards one of my kind being responsible and I had to worry when the mob would form, inflamed by Stoker's novel, and sweep through the area hunting for vampires. 

Dr Phillips broke the silence, no doubt believing I had been shocked wordless by the terrible sight. “The body is cold, sir, although there was a certain amount of heat, under the hintestines. The limbs are also still flexible, halthough they are beginning to stiffen. My professional hopinion is that she has been dead for two hours. I will conduct an hautopsy this hafternoon if you wish to attend, sir.”

I shook my head, affecting distaste at such proceedings. “I think not, I have business to attend to. I trust I will get a full report, inspector?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. Once I have read it, I might want to question some of the witnesses.” Once I had seen if any statement held discrepancies that might indicate memory tampering. 

“Very good, sir. I will harrange for a constable to be on hand for you,” Abberline offered, most gracefully. 

I paused as if in thought, but I had already decided on this action on my way here. If I had to break any effects of domination I could not afford to have a constable as a witness. “No, I think not, Inspector.” At Abberline's confused look, I added, “The Home Office would prefer its involvement in these murders to be kept quiet. We do not want panic or hysteria in the streets, after all. If I could pervade upon you for a warrant card I would be most obliged, otherwise I will make a request to Lord Henry.”

Abberline glanced at the body before nodding. “I quite hunderstand, Sir James. If the papers learn that the Home Office is hinvolved there will be even more sensational stories published. I'll have it delivered to you in the hafternoon post, sir.”

“Excellent.” I paused once more as if a thought had occurred to me. “And one for my private secretary, Ryan, if you would be so kind. I might have him make inquiries if I am otherwise engaged.”

“Yes sir.” Abberline paused before asking, “In what names would you want them, sir?”

Ah, good question. Neither myself or Ryan could use our own names, for fear that the murders might be linked to us and to the Home Office. “I will leave that in your capable hands, Inspector.” I took one final look around the yard and knew I would learn nothing more from it. I would need to wait for the Seer, as I had known from the start. The Seer bloodline was far more skilled in finding traces than I was but more importantly, they had the ability to see what the future might hold. I sighed, “A beastly business, gentlemen. I bid you good day.” I walked back to my carriage as the men's farewells reached my ears. Climbing inside I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my nose. 

“'Hwome, zur?” Charlie's ever-cheerful voice came through the flap. 

“Yes, Charlie.” I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes as I remembered I would have to make my report to the Council. “I will need your services later, Charlie. Tonight I must visit Black Hall.”

I heard him swallow and his voice held a quiver as he replied, “Very good, zur.”

Charlie was a good man and I would have to remember to have Becker break out a tankard of brandy for him on our return from the Council.


	7. Reports and The Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crime reports are read, comforts given and The Council is visited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta back in 2012.

Once I reached home I found myself at a loose end until Abberline's report arrived. I could not settle to anything and I wandered aimlessly around the house until Hattie chased me out of the kitchen with dire threats of what would befall me if I returned and got under her feet. 

Discretion seemed the safest course and I made my way to the attic room Ryan practised in to watch him for a few moments. I did not tarry long, as I had no wish to interrupt his study and I was too fidgety to wait patiently for him to finish. I paced the halls and rooms for some time before I turned a corner and came face to face with Hattie once more. She sighed and shook her head at me and I soon found myself out of the house. She ordered Charlie to saddle my horse and myself to be gone until the afternoon, when the reports should have arrived.

That was how I found myself riding my favourite horse, Midnight, down the Rotten Row in Hyde Park. Midnight's hooves kicked up the sand as we trotted down the broad track beneath the trees that were slowly changing to their brilliant autumnal hues. 

I greeted and stopped to exchange pleasantries with several members of the upper class who were also out for a ride, or to be precise, showing off their wealth and position to other members of their class. 

Midnight pranced on his hooves and threw his head back, eager for a run and I set him to a fast trot. As the track ahead was clear I decided to let him canter when he pulled on his reins, although I was careful to make sure we did not run into anyone as he lengthened his stride. I steadied him and slowed him to a trot and then a walk as the Serpentine glinted beside us and we came to the end of the Row. 

He was in a good mood as we alternately trotted and walked back home, his tail swishing and he began to prance once more, I could almost believe he was showing off to the other horses.

****

I dismounted and gave Midnight a pat before I left him in Charlie's excellent care. I was most eager to read the report I was sure was waiting me in my study. However, as I entered the room I found Ryan looking rather pale and distressed. I was quick to gather him in my arms and held him tight to my breast. “Ryan? What ails thee?”

Ryan cast his gaze to the floor as he bowed his head. “I apologise for my unseemly behaviour, sire.” 

“None of that, my love,” I admonished him gently as I tugged his chin up so I could look into his troubled eyes. “What has happened in my absence?”

Guilt flashed across his features before Ryan swallowed and spoke. “The police report was dropped off earlier, my sire. I am sorry I did not wait for your return before reading it.” He shook his head. “How could someone do that? I just do not understand.” He looked at my, his eyes beseeching my understanding. Understanding I could not give as I did not understand the madman's actions myself.

“I know not.” I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Members of our kind require blood, either from retainers or kills, but this savagery?” I shook my head before continuing, “I fear the murderer has some dark impulse driving him.” I paused in thought before nodding. “In fact, my dear Ryan, I hope he has.” At Ryan's startled look, I added, “He would be infinitely more dangerous to our kind if he is sane and has a plot to expose our kind to the mortal masses for some reason. A single madman is preferable over one revolutionary.”

Ryan thought for a moment before he sighed and nodded. “I understand, my sire. How anyone sane could commit such horrors...” He took a deep breath as he pulled free from my arms. “You will need wine before you read the report, my sire.”

I nodded gratefully as I sipped the sweet blood and picked up the report, worried by what I would read. “You may retire if this will distress you.” I was pleased when Ryan declined and sat to nurse his own glass. 

I skipped the preliminary notes as I doubted the vampire was someone this Annie Chapman had known, instead I leafed through to Dr Phillips report. The injuries were as savage as I had expected. The two parallel cuts to her spine sounded intriguing, but the half inch gap was not wide enough for them to have been caused by fangs, no doubt by a knife as the killer had attempted to decapitate her. I was relieved to learn that most of the mutilations had occurred after her death; at least she had not experienced the horror of that. It appeared that the good doctor agreed with my deduction that she had been gravely ill. 

The fact that he thought the victim would have called out for help merely confirmed my belief that the killer had dominated her. The terror the woman must have felt as she was helpless to move or even beg for help must have been immense. 

I read on and came to the section I realised had caused Ryan's reaction and I did not blame him as I perused the document. Chapman's abdomen had been laid entirely open with the intestines lifted from the body and placed on her shoulder. The uterus and its appendages with the upper part of the vagina and two thirds of the bladder had been removed and taken away with the murderer for some ungodly reason. The good doctor professed that the incisions were the work of an expert, or at least, that of someone with such knowledge of anatomy or pathological examinations to have committed this butchery with one sweep of a knife, a very sharp one from the appearance of the injuries. 

I paused as I read that last bit again. So, I was dealing with someone with medical knowledge or, I cursed silently, someone with anatomical knowledge gained in some other way. I knew several candidates – from doctors and surgeons to butchers and torturers – not that I could dismiss anyone, after all, in the long years we existed, a vampire could learn many skills but not practice them for centuries. I certainly had.

Returning to Dr Phillips' notes, I discovered that he, himself, could not have committed those injuries in under quarter of an hour, even if the woman had not been struggling. Indeed, performed in the deliberate way as a surgeon should, it would have taken him the best part of an hour. I paused again and flicked back through the notes to read about Chapman's last night. The time between the last witness report and the discovery of the body had been less than half-an-hour. A vampire was looking increasingly likely for my suspect, one with the ability to dominate his victim into obedience, and with the strength, speed and skill to perform such savage butchery in the available time.

I gulped down the rest of my wine and closed my eyes. I sighed softly as Ryan's skilled fingers dug firmly into my shoulders, massaging the tension away. The Council would have to be informed of this report and although I had no wish to present myself before them again, I knew I must. Although I had nothing to add to the information held in the report, they – or rather My Lady – would take umbrage at my absence. I could not risk that, for she might add it to her reasons for delaying or even denying a Seer permission to enter London. 

After enjoying Ryan's ministration for a short while I sighed softly as took up the report again. This time I placed the autopsy to one side, I had no wish or need to read it again. It was the witness statements I was now interest in... Speaking of which... “Ryan? Did we receive anything else from Abberline?”

Ryan smiled as he showed me the warrant cards. “I assume you are the Inspector, my sire, and I am your assistant, a Detective Sergeant?” He grinned as I quirked an eyebrow at him, before he opened the cards and read out. “Inspector James Johnson and Sergeant Thomas Peters.” 

“Good.” I smiled at him. “Now, leave me to read in peace.”

“Yes, my sire.” Ryan leaned down to kiss me. “I will sleep and practise, my sire, and will then join you for dinner.”

I found myself watching Ryan's arse as he left my presence before reluctantly turning my attention back to the statements. The first I looked through was that given by one Albert Cadosh, a Parisian by birth and resident at the dwelling next door to the murder scene. He had risen at 5.15 on the morning in question and entered the yard for a moment. He had heard a voice say “No!” from the yard at number 29. On re-entering the yard minutes later, he had heard something touch the other side of the fence but had thought nothing of it, often hearing noises at that time of the morning. Although he stated he had not looked over the fence and that he had not been out in the yard for long, I knew I could not rely upon that evidence, not with a vampire murderer who seemed strangely reluctant to kill anyone not his chosen victim. I pondered as I considered my memory of the yard. The fence enclosing the yard was high enough that only the determined would have looked over it and seen the murderer. The question was whether Cadosh was such a determined individual, was anyone who might have looked into the yard? I sighed softly. I would have to continued to read for I could not dismiss the curiosity of mortals. For the same reason, I placed Cadosh's statement in the possible witnesses pile for further thought. 

The next statement belonged to one Mrs Elizabeth Long and I noted straight away that it contradicted that of Cadosh's, unless one of them had got their time wrong. When I read she had seen a man talking to a woman outside number 29 I paid more attention, not that her description matched any vampire I knew. I considered whether she could have been dominated, but as she carried on walking the murderer would have had to commit his crime and then find her again. I thought it unlikely. Something else was bothering me about the statement and I flicked back to the post-mortem, Dr Phillips had estimated the time of Chapman's death as around 4.30, long before either Mrs Long's or Cadosh's evidence. I placed Mrs Long's statement onto the pile to be returned to Scotland Yard and once more picked up Cadosh's to place it on top of Mrs Long's. I paused for a long moment, torn between my belief that Cadosh had seen nothing and the slight possibility that he had. I could understand Cadosh getting his time wrong if, and only if, the vampire responsible had made his remember it wrongly. It would certainly explain why neither he nor Mrs Long reported seeing the other. I sighed and dropped Cadosh's back onto the files for further thought pile. If I had time I would have to re-question him, even though I believed he would have little to tell me for I could not take the risk he might have seen something. 

I next read the statement of Mr John Davis, the man who had discovered the body. He stated he was awake from between three and five in the morning, which covered the estimated time of death. I felt I would have to check his story personally, to see if he had witnessed anything unusual that night. 

When I came to John Richardson's statement I knew who was first on my list to be questioned. He had been in the yard at 4.45 and seen nothing unusual, he had even sat on the steps mere yards from where Chapman's body had been discovered yet had seen nothing, even though it was just getting light and he could see all around the yard. If Dr Phillips was correct as to the time of death, Richardson should have seen the body... but he had not. 

Any questioning could wait for tomorrow. I had a report to give to the Council and if the Seer's arrival was imminent I would wait for her before I talked to the witnesses. I felt it would be best all around if she could use her abilities instead of me trying to break the memory tampering. I would also need to make my own list of suspects and try to figure out who amongst them could be the killer, although I had little hope of any success in that area. I needed the Seer to have any chance of solving this case.

****

I noticed Charlie was jumpy this evening although that was not unexpected considering our destination. The spots of rain that fell as my carriage made its way though the gloomy London streets towards Black Hall seemed to match my sober mood. The fog billowed around us, growing thicker and blacker the nearer we came to the Council, almost as if it could sense the unnaturalness of the inhabitants.

My matched black pair neighed and flecked as they drew up to the gates, panicking at the aura of danger and death that hung faintly in the air even at this distance from the hall. I left them at the gates and approached on foot, once more noticing that the stunted vegetation already taken on its winter's hues and the lack of any nocturnal wildlife within the Hall's walls. 

This time when I knocked the door was opened by a new butler. Short and stout and of a rough appearance as if he had only recently been carved out from stone. I knew better than to enquire about what had happened to the previous butler as I followed the new one down the hall to the audience chamber. As I walked down the echoing hall I could not help but wonder who would be within, but I saw no reason to worry as I could not change who waited for me. 

“Jamessss.” 

I bit back a smile as My Lord greeted me, for it would not do to show relief that My Lady was absent, especially as it was possible she wasn't. I half-bowed. “My Lord. There has been another murder.”

“By one of our kind?”

“I can not tell, My Lord, even though the site was only slightly contaminated by the mortals. My senses are not acute enough.”

“And you are trying to find a polite way of asssking when the Ssseer will arrive?” My Lord asked with a wry grin, one that told me I had been correct when I had assumed My Lady had been tardy in summoning the Seer.

“The danger of exposure increases with each murder, My Lord. Inspector Abberline has informed me that a group of local volunteers has formed, the Whitechapel Vigilante Committee. They will be patrolling the streets and might encounter the killer.”

“It issss not me you need to convince,” My Lord muttered for my ears only before his voice returned to its normal volume. “I will try and expedite the Ssseersss arrival. Ssssee that sssshe isss quick in her work and leavesssss assss quickly assss possssible.”

“So I had planned, My Lord.” 

“Good.” My Lord quirked an eyebrow at me. “Ssssso my young Jamessss. Have you had any ssssuccessss in your hunt for the culprit?”

“I have a list of those vampires who possess domination and...” I shook my head. “It is too long a list, My Lord. Over the long years, how many of our kind have reinvented themselves to follow different careers? I, myself, have.”

“I can only wisssh you luck, my dear Jamesss. If you have need of ssssomeone to talk too, ssssomeone to dissscusss your ideassss with...”

“I thank you, My Lord, but I would not want to –.”

My Lord cut me off with a wave of his hand. “Nonsssence, my boy.” 

“My Lord.” I bowed once more and waited for his nod to leave him. I hoped he would talk My Lady into making sure the Seer arrived swiftly, surely even she had to see sense when it came to our existence being revealed to the world? I would also bare in mind his request that I seek his help, for all my reluctant, I knew I would most likely need it. 

I wrapped my overcoat tightly around my body as I left Black Hall, a chill in the air as the black fog swept across the landscaped grounds. I wasted little time as I strolled up the path to my carriage, my mission completed I wanted, no needed, to return to my home, to Ryan, and wash the cloying sense of death from my skin.


	8. Undercover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sir James goes undercover to question witnesses and finds trouble instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta back in 2012

I woke the next morning refreshed and pleasantly aching from my activities with Ryan the previous night. Running a hand through my hair, I considered my options. I could wait for the Seer or I could question the witnesses myself. I sighed. At least if I spoke to them I would know whether the Seer needed to question them. Besides that, it gave me something to do as I awaited her arrival and the next murder, I might even find a clue to help me in this hunt.

I kissed Ryan goodbye. “Practice well, my Ryan. I expect I will be gone most of the day and I will want a full report on your progress on my return.”

“I will miss your presence, my sire.” Ryan told me with a come-hither look. 

I leaned in to kiss him, softly biting at his lips. “I will make it up to you later.” From Ryan's grin I assumed he was in full agreement with my plans. “Later, Ryan. I have work to do and so do you.” 

“Yes, my sire. I will make you proud.”

I smiled before turning to my toiletry as I made myself ready for the day and carefully chose my clothing for my role as a police inspector. I read Richardson's statement as I broke my fast and savoured an excellent year from my special cellar. 

I had Charlie drop me near to Richardson's likely location at this time of the day. It would hardly do my disguise any good if I turned up in my obviously upper-class carriage. I waited in the shadows of a narrow alley for a few moments after I'd arrived as I checked for anyone watching me. Satisfied that I had not been noticed leaving my carriage, I stepped out onto the street and walked along as I asked after Richardson. I was soon directed to him by several of the locals and entered the public house he was to be found in. It was small and smelt of soot and unwashed bodies and I had to force myself not to give expression to my distaste at being in such an establishment. The interior was lit by the flickering flames of several gas lamps, even though it was still daylight outside, but they did little to lighten the gloom that covered all like a cloak. 

“Wha' you be 'aving?” The barkeep wiped his hands clean on a dirty rag and looked me up and down, no doubt wondering if he could thump me over my head and steal my valuables. 

I showed him my new warrant card as I spoke, making sure I accidentally let my jacket fall open to reveal the revolver I carried. I also quickly made the judgement call that he would more easily speak to one of his own class. “I's looking for John Ric'ardson. Been told 'e's 'ere.”

“I don't blow.” The barkeep scowled at me as he ground one meaty fist into the other. 

“No need t'be gammy, I justs wants talk t'im.” I really did not need to get into a fight, especially as I would have to take my knocks for once. Too many witnesses were present for me to use my abilities and not be noticed doing so. I decided to draw the man into my confidence, all barkeeps liked gossip. “'E be witness that murder t'other night.”

“T'bloody trasseno done carved up t'judy? Needs a good topping.” When I nodded, the barkeep nodded towards a group of men playing cards. “Tha'Richardson o'er there, back t'window.” 

I turned to look at the group and spotted my witness. He was dressed much the same as the rest of the patrons to this establishment. Sporting Moleskin trousers, black coat and waistcoat and a checked shirt, topped by a bowler. Facially, he had neatly trimmed dark hair and moustache and a somewhat hooked nose. He looked like a descent enough fellow, as descent as any got in this hell known as the East End and one who would respond well to his betters. 

I mentally shook myself. Standing at the bar looking at him was not going to get any of my questions answered. I strolled over to the group and watched for a moment until I would not interfere in their hands. Clearing my throat I enquired, “Mr John Richardson hof 2 John Street, Spitalfield?” 

“Who wants t'know?” he replied surly as he glared at me from beneath his bowler hat. 

I flashed my warrant card at him. “Hinspector Johnson. I have a few questions for you habout Saturday just gone.”

“I already given a statement t'that other copper.”

“Hand now you can tell me.” I stepped closer and made it clear I was not going until he talked to me. 

“Right yer be.” Richardson licked his lips as his eyes flickered to his friends, before he repeated his tale. “It were about 4.45 and I 'ad calld in t'29 'Anbury Street t'check t'cellar doors. Make sure they was secure as a few months ago been broken into and a saw and 'ammer stoln.”

“Quite. Hand on that night?” I attempted to hurry him up as I really did have other matters to attend to.

“Aw, right. I checked t'door then sat meself down on t'second step down t'yard. I 'ad a bit of leather on m'boot that were 'urting me and I wantd t'cut it off.” He shook his head. “I would 'ave seen that woman's body if she'd been there then. It were just getting light but I could see all t'yard. I couldn't 'ave missed seeing 'er.”

I extended my senses slightly as Richardson spoke, and could just detect that peculiar flatness to his words and the almost imperceptible hesitation as he spoke of seeing nothing in the yard. Most of my kind would not have noticed, but I had learned to hear the tell-tale signs of domination and memory tampering to aid me in my role as a troubleshooter for the Council. Of course, a Seer would have detected it as soon as she had seen Richardson and I had to wonder if the delay in her arrival was more than My Lady's dislike of Seers. I almost shook my head at the direction my thoughts had taken. Did I really think there was a conspiracy between the killer and My Lady? Best to banish that thought from my head before I met the Seer, for she would know of it... I supposed that explained why the Seers were few in number and distrusted by most of my kind.

Enough. I had work to do and getting sidetracked on to irrelevant paths was not helping. I knew whoever had dominated Richardson was highly skilled as the trace was so faint. Far too skilled for me to risk an attempt to break the tampering. I could only hope the Seer arrived before the murderer killed again. 

Dusk was falling by the time I had finished questioning Richardson and I considered my next move. I could track down my other witnesses and question them, but was there any point? If they had been dominated into forgetting what they had seen I'd still be faced with the same conundrum. By breaking the domination I would more than likely break the mind of the witness. Maybe not immediately, but within a few months, possibly years, the witness would suffer for my meddling and I could not, would not, be responsible for that. 

Where the hell was my Seer? 

But no matter how much I wanted to scream that at the Council, I could not. It would get me nowhere except on My Lady's list of troublemakers. I had seen what happened to mortals and vampires on that list and it was not pleasant. I sighed but I saw no alternative but to wait for either another murder – and hope the killer made a mistake – or for the Seer to arrive, and I could only hope that the latter happened before the former. 

I will admit I was a fool. An overconfident fool at that. I was so deep in my thoughts that I completely forgot where I was. It did not pay to be unaware in Whitechapel, too many predators hunted for easy prey within its streets. 

I barely heard the scuffle of boots behind me in time to avoid the blow that had been aimed at my head. I knew if I had been mortal that I would have been on the ground out cold, if not dead. My assailant was not a man who worried about the gallows, that was clear, if he was willing to murder me for my belongings. As it was, the blow hit my arm and sent a jarring pain through it and I smelt my blood in the air. 

I spun and saw him, a heavy-set fellow who hefted a spiked cudgel in his meaty hand, its wicked spikes glittering with my blood. His teeth were yellowed from tobacco and his face sallow and pock-marked. All together an unsavoury specimen of an Eastender as I had ever seen in his much-patched and worn clothing. As he swung his cudgel at my head once more I kicked him in his privates. Not a gentlemanly thing to do, I admit, but my assailant was not a gentleman. I cautiously watched him as he dropped the cudgel and collapse to the ground holding himself and moaning in pain. 

“Bloody 'ell. 'E's kicked me tallywags!” 

I suppose I had but I could hear his accomplice creeping up on me so I liberated his cudgel to tap him smartly over his head, although I was careful not to hit him too hard. He might be a murderer but I tried my best not to kill. I hefted the cudgel to feel its weight as I turned to face my new assailant. He was a little rat of a man wearing a once red scarf around his neck and waving a sharp blade in his hand as though he meant business. Truthfully, with the way he was waving it about I felt he had more chance of stabbing himself in his arse than he did stabbing me with it. 

“I'll slit yer bloody gutter lane,” he snarled at me as spittle flew from his mouth and he did his best to look menacing with his knife. Did he really not know the best way to hold a blade in a fight? 

Although it sent agony ripping through my body I parried his blade with the cudgel before twisting it to send the blade spinning from his grip. He blinked in surprise to find himself so easily disarmed and I took advantage of his distraction to clip him around the head so he joined his friend unconscious on the ground. 

I made sure both were alive before I dropped the cudgel and made for home. All I could think about was a warm bath and then snuggling in Ryan's arms as we slept. I cursed as I felt blood drip down my arm, there was no way I could call a hansom now, not when I was in torn blood-covered clothing that would look rather suspect in the high-class area in which my house was situated. Instead, I slipped through the shadows, an unseen ghost to those who walked the streets beside me, as my arm ached and throbbed with every step I took.

Finally I stepped through my front door and into the glare of Hattie, who was tapping her rolling-pin in her hand for emphasis. Her stern expression melted when she took in my posture and appearance. “Sir James?” She turned her head and, with little respect for anyone sleeping, bellowed, “Master Ryan, Becker.” The two called men came at a run and sighed as they saw me standing there all bedraggled and bloodied. Hattie turned to give them her orders. “Becker, please run Sir James a warm bath. Master Ryan...”

Ryan nodded and carefully scooped me into his arms and I must admit I had to bite back a whimper as he jostled my arm when he carried me up to our room. His touch was gentle as he careful stripped me of my dirty and damp clothing before stripping himself. The feel of his warm skin against my own served to distract me somewhat as he lifted me into my bath. I groaned as the warm water surrounded me and warmed limbs I had not realised were cold. I shivered and yelped as the shivers sent agony racing along my nerves. Ryan's hands were gentle as they cleansed my body and I was soon drifting half-asleep. I mumbled as I was lifted from the bath and carefully dried, before snuggling into my bedding and nuzzling against Ryan's broad chest. I yelped as I was rudely disturbed by fingers probing my aching arm. I opened an eye to glare at whoever had disturbed my rest and swallowed as I met the stern eyes of Hattie. 

“Hush now,” Hattie muttered as her fingers gently examined my arm. I had to tamp down several flinches as she touched an especially tender spot. 

“Hattie?” Ryan sounded concerned as he nuzzled my hair in a distracting and most welcome manner. 

Hattie sighed softly. “Sir James has broken his arm, Master Ryan.”

I shifted in Ryan's grip and shot Hattie an annoyed look. “ **I** did not break anything.”

“Hush now.” Hattie repeated as she stood up and tucked the covers around me. “Master Ryan, keep him still and I will be back with an ointment for his arm.”

“Do I not get a say in this?” I muttered in annoyance and was not surprised by the chorus of 'Nos' that greeted my words. As it appeared I would not change anyone's mind and, in truth, I was too tired and comfortable to resist them, I decided that my best course of action was to snuggle against Ryan and let him hold me. 

I was not best pleased when I was once more rudely disturbed as Hattie manipulated my arm and only Ryan's arms held me still enough for her to complete her work. I did sigh as she coated my arm in her ointment before bandaging it and the pain died down to a dull bone-deep ache. I sniffed appreciatively as Ryan held a glass of blood to my lips and I eagerly drank it and one further glass before I slowly drifted into sleep as Ryan stroked his hand down my back.


	9. Two Murders In A Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sir James' temper shortens when no murders occur and he is no closer to finding the murderer... and then he is summoned to first one murder scene and then another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta back in 2012.

I expected to be informed of the next murder within a matter of days and found myself starting at every knock on my door. As days dawned and set without any news, I found the wait for the Seer and for the next murder to be a trying time, although not as trying as Ryan or my staff found it. It did not help that my arm ached abominably and I freely admit my temper was short and I took it out on them, Ryan mostly. I couldn't believe that My Lady was still dragging her feet over the Seer, the newspapers were full of stories of the Whitehall Vigilante Committee patrolling the streets and even the foreign press had mentioned the murders. I knew she was still hoping I would solve the case without the Seer's presence, but with every passing day I feared the arrival of a Witch Hunter in London, intent on tracking down the supernatural creature responsible for the killings. I also worried that the murderer had escaped my reach or, in my darkest moments, that it wasn't a vampire behind the crimes. The fears and doubts ate into me and I snapped and snarled and behaved most ungentlemanly, although I always apologised afterwards and begged forgiveness. 

Ryan had dragged me upstairs on one occasion when my temper had threatened to explode. He had been rough, his teeth grazing my flesh and nearly drawing blood as he had taken me hard and fast. Pleasure had raced through my body and I had bitten his shoulder hard as I came, gulping down his blood as he had keened and shuddered and erupted inside me. 

Once I had returned to my senses I licked his injury closed and looked at him, an unspoken question hovering on my lips. I had not meant to introduce him to the pleasure of pain and blood during sex, not without talking about it first, but I had reacted without thinking when I had bitten him. I needed to know he had enjoyed the act, that I had not lost him in my unthinking need. 

Ryan smiled at me, his face flushed and his heart hammering unneeded in his chest. “That felt... I have never felt so...” He shook his head and I knew he was unable to describe the exquisite feeling when pleasure and pain meet. 

I caressed his face, still needing him to tell me he had enjoyed it. “You liked it?”

“I did, sire.” Ryan grinned lavishly. “I should like to feel more of it.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. We will experiment later, my love. For now, I just want to lie with you in my arms.”

Ryan did not argue, he just pulled me against his chest. “Sire? Are you sure this killer is one of us?”

“I see no alternative. He kills unseen yet under the eyes of witnesses.” I did not tell him I knew several of the witnesses had been dominated. I did not want him to be punished if there was any trouble from not informing the Council about that fact. I made the decision and so any punishment would fall on my shoulders. 

That night was the start of our new relationship of blood and pain and pleasure. I found that my temper improved as we explored each other, learning where to nip and bite for the greatest pleasure. I caught the grateful look Ethel shot his way one morning when she came to change the sheets, no doubt thinking that the blood marking them was his. I wondered what she would say if she had known it was also mine?

****

I smiled at Ryan as we enjoyed our late repast of an excellent vintage from my cellar. I tensed at the knock on my door, this time of night I knew it could only by the police with news of another murder or the Seer, My Lord had messaged me that he was trying to convince My Lady of my need. I certainly hoped it was the later who had finally arrived; for the sooner she examined a murder site or saw into the future the sooner I could track down and dispose of this savage killer.

Becker knocked on my door and entered when I bid him too. “Sir James. It is the police, sir. There has been another murder.”

“Damnation!” I muttered as I rose. “Becker, please have the policeman wait and we will join him shortly. Wake Charlie and have the team readied.”

“At once, sir.”

“Sire?”

I smiled at Ryan and pulled him in for a quick kiss. “Yes. You can accompany me, my love. It is night-time.”

“Thank you.” Ryan smiled for an instant before sobering. “I will make you proud, my sire.”

“I know you will.”

****

The fog was thick and cloying as the horses clop-clopped their way through the cobbled streets. Ryan sat beside me, flicking through the notebook in which he had been making notes about the murders. He was playing the part of my assistant to perfection. The policeman, one William Smith, sat nervously on the opposite seat. He was a young man, well turned out with neatly groomed hair and moustache and obviously worried that he'd say the wrong thing in front of his betters.

I smiled and turned on the charm, feeling Smith relax as I subtly used my abilities to calm him. “PC Smith, can you tell me what happened tonight?”

“O'course, sir. I were walking me beat, sir. That were from t'corner o'Gower's Walk and Commercial Road t'Christian Street, then down Christian Street and Fairclough Street as far as Grove Street, along Fairclough Street t'Back Church Lane, finishing back at Commercial Street, sir. It takes me 25 t'30 minutes t'walk, sir.”

I nodded. “And tonight?” 

“Yes sir. It were at 12.30 that I sees a man and a woman standing on t'pavement a few yards up Berner Street, on t'opposite side t'Dutfield's Yard. I's sure that t'woman I sees be t'same as t'victim, sir.”

I nodded again. “Can you describe the man to us?” I noticed that Ryan had licked the tip of his pencil and I bit back a moan as I felt my cock twitch, my voice slightly rough as I spoke. “Ryan?” 

Ryan looked up with a start and nodded. “Yes, sir?” He glanced at Smith and smiled. “Sorry, sir, I was just thinking.” He nodded to Smith. “Please continue.”

Smith looked at his notebook before he began to speak. “''E were about 28 years o'age. I would says 5 foot 7 inches tall. 'E were wearing a dark overcoat and trousers with a 'ard felt deerstalker 'at. 'E lookd respectable, sir. I sees 'e were 'olding a newspaper parcel, about 18 inches long and 6 or 8 inches wide. I also sees that t'woman 'ad a flower in 'er jacket.”

“Was there anything to draw your attention to them?” I enquired, although I was sure that Smith would have walked past them unaware if that man had been the killer. 

“No sir. I didn't overheard their conversation and t'couple appeard sober. They was not acting in a suspicious manner. I 'ad no reason t'investigate, sir, and carried out me beat.”

“And later?”

“On returning t'Berner Street at 1am, I sees a crowd gathering at t'entrance t'Dutfield's Yard but I 'ad 'eard no cries of 'Police' beforehand t'alert me t'crime. When I arrivd I sees Constables Edward Collins and 'Enry Lamb already present, sir.. Once I sees t'deceased I went t'fetch t'ambulance and yourself, sir. As I were leaving I pass'd Dr Frederick Blackwell and 'is assistant, Edward Johnston, arriving.”

I cursed silently, yet another murder scene I would gain no clues from. Not that it could be helped, but it made the need for a Seer all the more imperative. 

We had no sooner arrived at the murder scene when Abberline called out to me. “Sir James. There has been hanother one.”

I paused, could I afford to miss something at this site by going to investigate the other? However, could I risk not going? I knew I would have a greater chance of identifying the killer at the newer less-disturbed scene. “Ryan, stay here and investigate this murder. Make notes of everything.” I turned to Abberline. “Inspector, would you care to accompany to this other murder?” 

Abberline and I were soon off, the horses moving as fast as Charlie felt safe as we made our way across London. I decided not to enquire about the previous murder, Ryan would obtain all the details for me to examine later, and I wished to concentrate on this new site. I wanted to think only of that site as I sought to pick up any impressions of the man – vampire – responsible. Luckily Abberline respected my silence and didn't ask any questions. 

It was approximately a quarter past two when we clattered into Mitre Square, in the City of London. Officially, I believed Abberline had no authority here. Luckily for me, I did. I stepped down into the square, Abberline close behind me, and waited for one of the local policemen to approach me. His long face was made even longer by the full beard he wore, although it and his short hair were neatly kept. 

“Yer can't stops 'ere, sirs. There's been another of them murders.”

Abberline nodded. “That is why we are here. Hinspector Abberline, Division H, warrant number 43519. This is Sir James, of the Home Hoffice.”

The constable almost snapped to attention when he heard where I was from. “PC 881 Edward Watkins, sir.” 

“Who discovered the body, Watkins?” I inquired as I looked around the area. I had little hope of finding any real trace of the murderer, for too many mortals had trampled over the scene. I needed the aid of a Seer before this whole mess blew up in our faces. I was not looking forward to reporting these two murders to the Council, especially as I would have to enquire, once more, when the Seer would arrive. 

“I did, sir.”

I nodded. “I will need to question you about what you saw, constable. But first, I require to look at the victim.”

“Yes sir. This way sir.”

Watkins lead myself and the good inspector towards the darkest corner of the square, the single lamp fitfully supplying its illumination and I wondered if it was for that reason the killer had chosen this spot. No, this was not part of the East End, this was the square mile of London. If this was the killer I was looking for than he had some reason for killing here, something I was missing. I would have to examine the files on the victims and see if something connected them – other than their profession. But for now, I had a murder site to investigate.

I noticed another man approach the body, from his dress I took him to be the City Police surgeon, but I must admit I paid him but little attention. My mind was focused on the new victim and what I could learn from her. 

Watkins called out to him. “Dr Brown, these gents be from t'Metropol'tan Police and t'Ome Office, sir.”

Dr Brown raised an eyebrow. “You harrived most precipitously, sirs.”

Abberline nodded. “We were close by, sir. At hanother of his murders.”

As the two men conversed behind me, I stepped closer to examine the body, clad as any other poor woman in the East End. She was on her back with her head turned to the left. Her arms had not been posed, although the fingers were flexed. Her left leg was straight and the right bent to the side. I could see the bastard had cut her throat and gashed at her abdomen. I swallowed as one of the policemen angled his light for me and lit up her body. Her intestines had been pulled from her body and placed over her right shoulder and my nose twitched at the smell that rose from them. I closed my eyes as I couldn't help but remember my own death, the stench of my intestines as they had slithered out of my body. 

Dr Brown gripped my arm. “Sir? Are you well, sir? Come, sit down over here.”

“I will be fine, my good doctor. It is...” I waved my hand to encompass the body. 

“Yes sir. Tis a terrible sight.” 

I took a deep breath and coughed as the rank odour filled my nose. I pulled out a handkerchief and held it over my nose as I resumed my examination. The bastard had cut part of the intestines free, about two foot, if I hazarded a guess, which had been deliberately placed between the body and left arm. But why? Was this some macabre part of some occult ritual? A deliberate mocking of the victim? Something only the killer saw significance in? 

“My dear God, look what he's done to her face.”

The shock in Abberline's voice broke into my thoughts and I looked up at her face and swallowed at the sight. The killer had not restricted himself to abdominal injuries this time and had mutilated her face. I could see hints of white on the right side of her face and realised the madman had cut down to the bone. My gaze dropped to her throat and to the quantity of clotted blood around the wound and body. If was a fair amount but not what I would expect from such a wound. Either my killer was a vampire who consumed the blood or who collected it for some no doubt terrible occult ritual. 

Dr Brown crouched beside the body to examine it closely. He touched her skin and moved her limbs. “She is quite warm and no death stiffening has taken place. In my hopinion, she has been dead most likely within the half hour.”

Abberline sighed. “That fits with the time of death hof our first murder, Sir James. We are dealing with the same madman.”

I nodded, distracted as I suddenly realised that there was no blood on her abdomen, even through she had been gutted most viscously. I checked the surrounding bricks and pavement and found them, as I expected, to be clean of blood spurts. Yet more evidence that my killer was most likely a vampire. “Dr Brown, I would be most grateful if you would provide me with the post-mortem report.”

“Of course, Sir James.”

“Good. Now, Inspector, I wish to speak to PC Watkins.” I strolled off to find Watkins, knowing that Abberline would be trailing after me. I soon spied the man I wished to talk to and called out to him, “PC Watkins.”

“Sir?” Watkins replied as he turned towards me. 

“Can you tell me about tonight?”

“Yes sir.” He pulled the policeman's every present notebook out and flicked through it. “I commenc'd me first full round o'me beat at about 10pm. Me beat consists o'Duke Street...” He trailed off as I held a hand up. “Sir?”

“Just the details of when you discovered the body, please.” If I needed more details I would gain them from the reports I would received the next day. I sensed I was being watched and glanced around to notice a well-dressed man frowning at us. I assumed he was the local inspector and did not appreciate Abberline in his jurisdiction, however, as he turned sharply towards the police constable talking to him, I assumed he had just been informed I was from the Home Office. 

“O'course, sir.” Watkins paused as he found the correct page of his notebook. “At about 1.44am, I enter'd Mitre Square from Mitre Street and turned right t'check t'darkest corner o't'square, sir. I 'ad me Bulls-eye lamp open and fixed t'me belt so I could sees, sir, what with t'lamp being not fully working. As I continu'd I sees t'body o't'victim in t'corner of 'Eydemann's Yard and t'empty cottages yonder. I knew George Morris, 'e's t'night-watchman at Kearley & Tonge Warehouse and Counting 'Ouse were on duty and immediately approach'd t'warehouse door t'summons 'im, sir.”

“Please continue,” I murmured as he stopped, obviously wandering if he had given me too much detail as I had stopped him once already. 

“Yes, sir. Well sir, I rans across t'road and called for 'im t'come t'me assistance. That were at 1.45am, sir, I check'd on me own watch. George Morris follow'd me out, sir, and shone 'is light on t'body, sir. 'E then blew 'is whistle and left for 'elp, sir, 'eading up towards Aldgate. I stayd with t'body and conductd a brief inspection best I can what with t'poor light. I did sees 'er filthy clothing, sir, and t'bloody fingerprints on 'er chemise. I then remain'd with 'er until t'arrival of PCs 964 'Arvey and 814 'Olland, sir. At 1.55am Dr George Sequeira arrived and pronounc'd 'er dead, though within t'last quarter 'our, sir. 'E didn't make a more detail'd examination, leaving that for Dr Brown t'conduct, sir.”

“Thank you, PC Watkins.” I took one last glance over at the body before turning to Abberline, “I expect a full report, Inspector, for both murders as soon as possible.”

Abberline nodded in the direction the City Inspector had gone as he told me, “You will get the Metropolitan report as soon as I receive it, Sir James. The City one you will have to get from Hinspector Hedward Collard, sir.”

I turned to walk over to this Inspector Collard and make my order couched as a request for the report and my steps hesitated as I recognised who had joined him. I was not sure whether to be pleased he was there or not, but the presence of Major Henry Smith might make my life easier. We knew each other from our Club and had partnered each other at Bridge. As I recalled he had gambled rather heavily on us to win and had been most congenial in our dignified celebrations. I nodded in greeting as I approached. “Major Smith, my dear Henry, I trust you are well?”

Smith nodded back. “I am indeed and that you are, Sir James. Home Office business I understand.”

I turned back towards the body with a grimace of distaste on my features. “Beastly business, Henry, but one must do one's duty to Queen and Empire.”

“Well said, sir,” Smith agreed. “What service can the City of London police be, Sir James?”

Good. Major Smith had always been a direct man; I assumed it came from his militia service. “I require a copy of any information about this crime. Witness statements, the good doctor's findings, anything.”

Smith sighed softly. “All this sensationalism in the papers, Sir James?” At my nod, he continued, “I do not like it, sir, not one bit. All this talk of the supernatural, making the Empire look backward and superstitious.” He took a breath and I knew I was about to be regaled with one of his long winded stories of the old days. “Did I ever tell you about the savage killings I became involved with when I was in the Suffolk Artillery Militia, Sir James?” 

I did wonder about informing him I had not the time for his ramblings, but I needed his help and so merely said, “I believe not, Henry.”

“It was a terrible business, Sir James. Terrible. The common folk believed that it was a beast that committed the crimes. They had searched for its lair but found nothing and that is when the rumours of werewolves started. They looked at each other with suspicion as if anyone could have been the killer instead of some natural creature...”

I let Smith drone on, nodding in all the right places as I kept my expression strictly sober. As much as I wanted to smile as Smith provided me with the perfect story to show how the uneducated took a common creature's attacks and transformed it into evidence of the supernatural. I knew the surrounding police constables could overhear him and I trusted that they would spread the tale. Anything that served to distract the masses from believing in vampires was to my advantage.

Finally, Smith finished his story and I congratulated him on solving the mystery. He smiled at that and promised me most faithfully I would have all the information I required as soon as he himself himself did. 

As soon as I could I took my leave, citing important government business I must attend to come daylight. I set Charlie clattering back to Dutfield's Yard and fretted the entire journey as to whether Ryan had waited for me or had made his own way home. I only relaxed when Ryan finally clambered into the carriage and Charlie set the horses homeward bound. 

I did not ask Ryan anything as I kissed him, needing to feel him in my arms to know he was safely out of the sunlight. I tumbled into bed with him and we explored each other until sleep took us.

****

I woke the next morning to the ringing of church bells and groaned softly. It felt far too early to be roused from little sleep. I summoned Becker to my bedroom and informed him to wake me when the police reports arrived, otherwise I did not intend to rise before dusk.

“Of course, sir.” Becker nodded and let himself out. 

I was at least half-asleep when I sensed someone enter the room, I half-opened an eye and watched Becker place a full decanter of blood from my cellar on the table along with two glasses. I smiled as I drifted asleep with Ryan in my arms, Becker truly was invaluable.


	10. Reporting To The Council (Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lester has to report the new murders to the Council, things don't go well and he almost makes a mistake. One that might cost him dearly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta.

I woke to the smell of blood as a glass was wafted under my nose. I eagerly grasped it and drank deeply before I opened my eyes. “What time is it, Becker?” I could sense the sun was still up, although low in the sky. 

“Nearly five o'clock, sir,” Becker informed me, “I have taken the liberty of having Hattie prepare you breakfast, sir.”

“The reports have arrived?” I sat up and sipped from the glass he had refilled as we had spoken. 

“One, sir. I believe from the City of London police.” 

I smiled, good old Henry. It would appear that Henry did not want an unsolved murder on his hands and had called in his police surgeon to work on a Sunday. I assumed that the Metropolitan police had decided to preserve the day of rest and I would receive the report tomorrow. 

If I was dealing with a vampire as I believed I was, the sooner I could question the witnesses the better. I swallowed the rest of the blood before beginning my ablutions. I left Ryan sleeping as I retired to my study and I had to smile as I found a full breakfast waiting for me at my desk. My papers had been tidied carefully out of the way and it was the first time I had seen the scruffy green leather top of my desk for many months. I set about my meal with gusto, cleaning the plate and drinking down another glass of blood to fortify me for my reading. 

I quickly flicked through the report to find the autopsy and leafed through that to the medical examination of the body. I could not stop the shudder that passed through my body as I read Doctor Brown's most thorough notes and tried to understand how the killer could have committed this crime, any of the murders. Was there some meaning to what he did or... I did not know. I was certain I did not want to understand why he had committed these acts. 

He had mutilated her face. It was a cold and callous act, and one that would have taken time. He was not worried about discovery, either though knowing he could escape or some belief that he would not be caught committing the crime. Indeed, the cuts to her eyelids were most carefully made and could not have been rushed. 

There was a bone deep cut from the bridge of her nose to the angle at the right side of her jaw. He had made several other cuts to her face – he had removed the tip of her nose, split her upper lip and gum and made two triangular flaps in her cheeks. I had to wonder if the cuts had a ritualistic meaning or if the killer was trying to throw the police off his track. 

The killer had cut her throat, severing all the structures to the bone on the left side of her neck. I quirked an eyebrow when I read the carotid artery had a fine hole in it, was this evidence of a fang? The good doctor believed the injuries had been performed by a sharp instrument such as a knife and that it had a point, but this didn't rule out that fangs could have been involved as well. The cause of death was recorded as a haemorrhage – not a surprise when the killer was a vampire. 

He had made his usual butchery of her abdomen, slicing through flesh and into the various organs and muscles. Her left kidney had been removed as had her womb, and I didn't want to know why anyone would want to keep those organs. I was relieved that Doctor Brown was of the opinion that she had been dead at the time of the mutilations due to the lack of blood around the body. I had no wish to think of her lying helpless and in agony, unable to even scream as she watched and felt that bloody handed killer carve into her flesh. I supposed I should thank God for that mercy, but I had long given up believing in Him, the horrors I had witnessed in my long life had left me unable to believe in a merciful God. 

Enough of my musings, they did nothing to solve this crime. I turned my attention once more to the report and continued to read. 

Dr Brown agreed with Dr Phillips that the murderer had a great deal of medical knowledge and that the victim had not struggled, had not tried to save her own life, more indications that the killer was dominating the victims before he drank from them, although it did not cut down my number of suspects. Too many of my fellow vampires had the required knowledge, although I hoped that not many had the cold-bloodedness to commit these murders. Unfortunately, I had to believe that the murderer hide his cold-bloodedness beneath a normal façade – my mind returned to the play I had recently watched. I was obviously dealing with my very own Jekyll and Hyde. 

I put the report down and poured myself another glass of blood, sipping it slowly as I looked through the witness statements. I dismissed most as unimportant to my investigation until I came to the statement of one PC James Harvey, 964, of the City of London police. I flicked back to the statement of Joseph Lawende and his companions and checked the time they had seen a couple standing on the corner of Duke Street and Church Passage. Hmmm. It all indicated that PC Harvey had almost caught the murderer in the act. Or possibly even had caught him. I would have to interview him and see if I could detect any traces of domination on him. 

The thought that Harvey might have seen the killer's face was intoxicating, but what to report to the Council? I was not willing to mention my suspicions about Harvey to them, for they would take him and attempt to extract the information from him, whether he had truly seen anything or not. No, I would only tell them of the two murders that had been committed this morning. That and ask them when the Seer would finally arrive. Although I would have to try and be most diplomatic, My Lady was not someone to aggravate unnecessarily and I had more sense than to gain her as an enemy merely because I suspected her of... what? She was definitely hiding something that she did not want the Seer to discover, but I could not believe she was involved in the Whitechapel murders. That was too bloody and too obvious... unless she was using the murders as camouflage for some other scheme... I shook my head to scatter those thoughts. I needed to clear my mind of these thoughts before I met the Council. 

Speaking of which... I rang the bell and waited for Becker to arrive. “Becker, have Charlie prepare the carriage.”

“At once, sir.” Becker turned to leave and paused as I cleared my throat. “Sir?”

“Have Hattie make up one of her special warming brews, Becker. Charlie may need it when we return.”

“From Black Hall,” Becker intoned solemnly before adding, “I will do so, sir.”

I smiled with satisfaction as Becker left me; he was a good man to have at my side. I poured myself another glass of blood and savoured it. I was not looking forward to my visit and wanted only to be in bed with Ryan. Holding him. Being held by him. “Work comes first, old boy,” I muttered to myself as I walked towards the stables.

****

It was a gloomy night as Charlie directed the horses down the streets, the sound of their hooves clip-clopping on the cobblestones echoing around me. I could barely see the waning crescent of the moon as it briefly appeared through the clouds. I wrapped my overcoat tighter around me, less from the chill in the air than to the chill of my destination.

I heard the horses neigh and the carriage judder as they reared and danced nervously in their harnesses and knew we were at the forbidding gates of Black Hall. I found myself wishing I could remain here at the gates rather than face the Council and swiftly shook that thought away. I took a deep breath more to calm my nerves than from need. I had done nothing wrong... except not to follow up all the leads, but I could not bring myself to harm an innocent, or at least, a reasonably innocent mortal. I would not be in this position if the Council had acted on my wish for a Seer. Enough! I could not change what had happened and felt there was little point going over what I could have done differently, for I knew full well that I would not have done anything differently, no matter what it would cost me. 

However, I found I was still reluctant to enter those dismal walls and stand before the Council. I had nothing to report but another murder, or rather two murders, and to ask once more for the Seer. I knew I was putting off my meeting when I stopped to pat my flecked matched pair and they nuzzled at me. I could not help wonder once more why they panicked at these dread gates but not in my own presence or that of Ryan's. 

“Why do you like me, my beauties?” The one of my right nudged my shoulder and I stroked his ear. “I have nothing for you, Deimos. Not yet. Once we are home I will have Charlie give you and Phobos a treat.” I leaned forward and kissed their noses. “Be brave, my beauties, we will be home soon.” At least, I hoped we would.

I gave Deimos one final pat before turning and walking through the gates, feeling the air grow chilled and the black-tinged fog billow around me. The grass was wilted and the trees were bare of leaves. Winter had come to Black Hall early as if sensing the death that lay within.

I tapped the doors with my silver-tipped cane and waited for the butler, idly wondering if he would be the same entity who had greeted my last visit or if he had displeased his employers in some way. The door creaked open to reveal the same rough-hewn butler. He stepped aside to allow me entrance before leading me into the Council chambers. 

“What progress have you made?” My Lady's voice was as cold as the grave as she swept into the chamber like an avenging spectre.

“Two more murders have been committed, My Lady. I have not the police report on the first, but the killer is becoming more savage with each attack.”

My Lady sneered at me. “Come to beg for a Seer? Really, James, can you not catch this madman yourself? I always knew you were not the right man for this simple task.”

I knew better than to react to her insult, but it rankled. I bit my tongue as there was little point asking about the Seer. My Lady would not, it appeared, be moved on summoning her with any great haste. I would have to solve this with my own abilities, at least until the other Council members saw sense and the danger her refusal placed us all in. 

“Or is it something else?” She circled me as if looking for a weakness. “Is the killer one of your own Line? Perhaps even someone close to you?”

I curbed my desire to turn and tell her she was wrong and not just because it was possible she was not. After all, domination was one of the hallmarks of my Line and the killer possessed that ability. But the main reason I did not defend myself was she would merely take it as proof I did know who the madman was. I had no wish to endure her methods of persuasion if she decided I knew more than I really did. Besides, I could not risk her trying them on Ryan, he might officially be under my protection until he joined vampire society as a full member but I knew that might not protect him from her.

“No answer, James?” My Lady quirked an imperious eyebrow at me. “I grow tired of your presence, leave me.”

I managed to courteously bow to her before I turned on my heels and was away as fast as I could politely leave. That bloody woman. I almost paused at my next thought but managed to keep my tread even. I couldn't help but wonder if her barb was designed to throw my game, if the killer was one of her own for her own Line possessed domination? She would not want me to discover that and would want to deal with it herself. Either destroying the killer or, if he was acting on her orders... well, she might still kill him when his usefulness was at an end. Not that it really mattered, one way or the other. What did matter was that I needed to discover who the madman was, and do so without the aid of a Seer. 

“Hwome, Zur Jamez?” 

Charlie's voice startled me and I looked up to find myself at the gates, I had not even realised I had left the confines of Black Hall. I paused as I considered my next move. I longed to be back in bed with Ryan, but... My Lady's words echoed around and around in my mind like the accursed Harpies tormented Phineas. I needed to find proof and saw only one way to do so. “No, Charlie. Take me to Mitre Square.”

I found I could not relax on the journey and I felt my temper darken with each minute it took to reach the square. I clambered out and glanced around the darkened area, the faulty lamp had still not been repaired... not a surprise as it was a Sunday, or, as I heard the clock strike 2am, now early Monday. “Leave me, Charlie.”

“'Ees, zur.” Charlie knew better than to argue when I was in this sort of mood and I listened to the steady clip-clopping of my horses' hooves on the cobblestones as Charlie set off home. I pulled my overcoat tight and walked over to examine the murder scene once more. I closed my eyes and concentrated and on opening them again I could see the traces of numerous mortals criss-crossing the area. I could not even see my own vampiric trace so had little hope of detecting that of the killer. 

I heard the sound of approaching footsteps and stepped into the shadows, almost merging with them as I used my domination to hide my presence from the approaching policeman. Watkins walked past me and I mused how easy it would have been for the killer to hide himself likewise from the mortals. I could have stepped out and overpowered Watkins in an instant and dominated him into obedience before he could have drawn breath to shout for help. I had no doubt that was how the killer subdued his victims. However, Watkins was not the policeman I was interested in so I allowed him to walk unknowingly past me. 

I paused as I tried to remember PC Harvey's beat before crossing the square to Church Passage and then onto Duke Street. I found a shadowy spot to conceal myself in and waited for Harvey to appear on his beat. I did not have long to wait before I heard the sound of approaching boots and sharpened my vision to read the number stitched onto his collar: 964, so this was PC James Harvey. He looked a decent enough fellow. 

I followed him as he walked into Church Passage and was on him before he knew I was there. He drew breath to shout for help but I held a hand over his mouth. He struggled but I held him easily as I bore him into the wall and pressed hard against his back as I held him there. His struggles ceased as I dominated his mind. My voice harsh and guttural from my descended fangs, I demanded answers from him. “Tell me of the murder.”

Harvey's voice held the flat, disturbing utterances of one under domination. “I sees nothing.”

I growled softly and felt Harvey instinctively attempt to flinch away from me. His voice held all the signs of someone repeating back the information he had been dominated into believing. I increased my control and felt him shiver under the conflicting demands of two opposing dominations and I could hear his heart racing in his chest as he began to struggle again, drool emerging from his mouth as I felt him convulse against me. 

I felt sick. I couldn't believe what I had almost done. I closed my eyes to regain my senses and felt Harvey's convulsions grow. “Shh.” I released my command for him to tell me what he knew and held him until his convulsions ceased. “Calm down. Breathe, just breathe.”

I waited there, still pressing him against the wall, until he stopped convulsing and his heart ceased to pound. I took a deep, calming breath of my own before I leaned close and spoke to him. “You saw nothing unusual and will continue your beat. You will not remember this encounter.”

Harvey's voice was dull as he repeated my words back to me and I stepped back to release him. He shook his head and wiped his mouth before he resumed his beat and I stumbled back into the shadows. I had nearly... damn My Lady and her manipulations. I would not become like her. I turned and almost fled the area, although I made sure to keep to the shadows and away from the view of any mortal. I ran as if the devil himself was after me, and maybe, in that moment of madness, he was.

My mind was in turmoil over what I had nearly done. How close I had come to becoming one of the monsters I opposed. I wandered the dark streets until I found myself overlooking the Thames and stared into its watery depths, musing how many years we had both witnessed as the mortals lived their lives around us and how many we had both killed. I vowed to find the killer and to never descend to the depths of depravity he had. I finally turned my back on the river and slipped away as quiet as the grave to resume my wandering around London, for I was too shaken to return home and to the comfort of Ryan's arms.


	11. Fear And Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James fears he has lost Ryan through his actions and it leads to comfort and bloodplay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta.

Dawn was breaking when I final returned home. To the righteous anger of Hattie who tore into me for my unexplained absence, informing me that Ryan had been worried sick over me and feared that I had been attacked once more by ruffians. I heard the words she did not utter, that she had been worried about me. From the look she gave me, I could have sworn she had known of my actions that night and was worried about my reaction to what I had almost done. 

As soon as possible, I made my escape and retreated to my bedroom. I had barely entered when I found myself pinned against the wall with Ryan kissing me desperately. “I feared something had befallen you, my sire. That you had encountered this killer we hunt or...” His voice trailed off as he pressed another kiss against my lips, hard and demanding as if making sure I was still alive... well, still existed I supposed I should say. 

I returned Ryan's kiss forcefully as I pulled him tightly against me. I needed to feel him in my arms and refused to release him as he tried to pull free. 

“Sire?” Ryan's voice held an edge of worry as he asked me, “James? What happened? Please, tell me.”

I shook my head and clung to him tighter, I feared what he would say and what his reaction would be if I told him the truth. 

Ryan's voice was gentle, almost as if he was trying to calm a scared child. “Please, James. Tell me what happened last night.” He stroked a hand over my back in a comforting manner. “Come on, James. Talk to me, love.” I felt a fool as I sniffled and blubbered like a child against his shoulder. “James, please, you're worrying me.” 

I let my head rest on Ryan's shoulder as I slowly began to calm down. How could I tell him what I had almost done? I allowed Ryan to lead me to our bed... would it still be ours if I told him? I did not resist as he pulled me into his arms and I curled up in his sheltering embrace. I needed that comfort one more time before I lost it forever. 

I had no idea how long I lay in his arms, feeling Ryan's hand stroke down my back as he rocked me. I swallowed before pulling free as I knew I had to tell him the truth. I could not lie to him just to keep him by my side. If Ryan wanted nothing more to do with me, I would fulfil my duty to him and find him another to mentor him. Perhaps Christiana if she stayed in Paris, for I doubted I could stand to see Ryan with someone else in London. 

“James?” Ryan's voice was gentle as he sought to coax the answers from me. 

“I...” I swallowed hard as my voice cracked. “I did something terrible, Ryan.” When Ryan shook his head in denial, I put my fingers to his lips. “Let me finish.” I mentally added _my love_ but could not say it out loud, I did not know if I deserved the honour of calling him that. “My meeting with the Council did not go well.” I shook my head violently. “No. I will not excuse what I did.” I took a deep breath. “I used my domination on PC James Harvey. I was sure he had seen the murderer and I wanted to force him to tell me what he had seen.” 

“Did he?” Ryan's voice was still gentle but I could hear the hesitation as if he was shocked by my action, and I did not blame him as I was still shocked that I had even considered my action, let alone carried it out. 

I bowed my head as I felt my eyes tear, I felt ashamed of the self-pity that welled in my heart. “I don't know. He began to convulse as the two dominations vied for control. I...”

“You what? Please tell me.” I was amazed at how gentle Ryan's voice remained in the face of my crime.

“I could not continue. I wiped my actions from his mind and let him go.” I refused to lift my gaze to see the horror and disgust I knew I'd see in Ryan's eyes. 

“You stopped.” I could not reply to Ryan's statement, I saw little point as I knew I had lost him, lost his love, forever. I felt his fingers on my chin as he made me look up at him, although his features were blurry through my unshed tears. “You stopped, James. You realised what you were doing was wrong and you stopped.”

“I still...” I did not get to finish my response as Ryan drew me into a kiss. Gentle and comforting and I did not understand how he could still bear to touch me. 

“You are not a monster, James. If you were you would have continued until you had the truth from him and he lay dead or mad on the ground. You stopped when you realised you were hurting him. Those are not the actions of a monster, love. They are the actions of a good man.” I shook my head in denial as my tears fell once more, but Ryan pulled me into his arms and cradled me. “What happened at the Council?”

“What?” I was embarrassed at that utterance, where had my manners gone?

Ryan pressed a kiss against my hair. “You said the meeting with the Council did not go well, my sire.” When I just sighed in answer, Ryan resumed rubbing my back and I felt such a liar, undeserving of his comfort. “Please, James. I worry about you.” He then pulled out the big guns. “If you do not tell me you will have to tell Hattie.”

I closed my eyes. Hattie was another person I did not want to disappoint. She might, officially, be my servant but she was more of a friend. Someone who would call me on my mistakes and make sure I looked after myself. I took a deep breath, “My Lady implied I had not discovered the murderer as he is one of my Line, someone close to me. I... I feared she was referring to you...” 

I could not help my flinch when Ryan hissed in an angry breath. He instantly held me tighter and smoothed a hand down my back. “Shh, love. It is My Lady I am angry with. You are the most honourable man I have ever known, how she...” Ryan trailed off as a thought obviously occurred to him. “Do you think she knows who the killer is?”

I shrugged in Ryan's grip. “It had occurred to me, domination is an ability of her Line as much as our own.” I needed to know whether Ryan truly forgave me for my actions. “Ryan...?”

“James?”

“I. That is. Um.” I was not normally this bad at expressing myself and so tried again. “Ryan. Do you... can you forgive me?”

“Forgive you?” At Ryan's words I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, of course he did not. How could he? “Of course I do.” His words were such a great surprise to me that I pulled out of his arms and looked at him in shock. He forgave me? “Oh, my sire. I blame My Lady for what happened, not you.”

“You do?” I could not believe how lucky I was that Ryan was willing to overlook my terrible behaviour. 

Ryan just laughed softly and pulled me down for a kiss. “Of course I do. I love you.”

I forgot to breathe at his declaration and kissed him senseless. My hands swept under Ryan's shirt to touch his warm skin and I gasped into his mouth as his hands swept over my arse and pulled me close against him, so close I could feel his hardness press against my hip. It seemed only moments before I was pressing my naked body against Ryan's as I tumbled him onto the bed. He bounced on the bed with his lovely thick cock jutting proudly from his dark blond curls, glistening with pre-come and looking absolutely divine. 

As a bead of moisture appeared on the tip I could not resist the urge to lean forward and take him in my mouth. His unique taste was exquisite on my tongue, as pleasurable as the finest wine or the most desirable blood to my palate. I took Ryan as deep as I could before sliding back up to swirl my tongue around his tip. I easily held his hips down as I teased and licked him to a full erection, before sliding up and down his length and swallowing around him. 

“James. Please. Feels so good.” Ryan's gasps and moans of pleasure went straight to my cock, heavy and in desperate need of attention. I grinned around my mouthful, knowing exactly what I wanted. What I needed and I was sure Ryan would enjoy it too. In fact, I knew he would. 

I released his cock and sat up with a smirk. I kissed and nuzzled and nipped my way up his body until I could place a kiss on his mouth, mashing our lips together until our blood flowed and mixed. I pulled free with a smile, blood trickling down my chin until I reached a finger to catch it. I heard Ryan's moan as I sucked my finger, licking it clean of our blood. 

“Sire.” Ryan begged as his hips rose, seeking more of me. 

I was happy to oblige him as I swooped in to lick at the blood dripping down his chin to run in rivulets down his sweat-dampened skin. His moan drove all patience from me, I needed him and I needed him now. I straddled Ryan's hips and began to lower myself towards his straining cock. 

Ryan's hands gripped my hips in a bruising grip that merely served to fuel my desire. “You are not ready, sire.”

I leaned down and kissed him, sliding my tongue against his lips until he granted me entrance. “Remember, pleasure and pain together, my love.” I took a deep breath and relaxed as much as I could, after all, the whole point was for me to accept his cock inside me and I could hardly do that if I was too tight. Pain might be the point of this encounter but I did want the pleasure that came with it. 

I moaned as I felt his hard cock nudge against my opening, teasing myself and him for an instant before I pressed down onto him. I almost gasped as my body resisted this penetration. I should have realised it would be more difficult that I remembered, it had been many decades if not more since I had last done this. However, I knew what must be done and grunted with the effort as I impaled myself on Ryan, feeling my flesh tear and smelling my blood in the air as I forced myself further down on his stiff shaft. The pain was excruciating.

“Sire!” Ryan looked terrified as he gripped my hips and attempted to keep me still. 

The smell of blood was heavy in the air, intoxicating, as I bent down to kiss him. Grimacing in pain as his wilting cock tore into my soft innards. “Trust me, my dearest Ryan,” I breathed as I nipped at his nose and began to move. I felt him firm as I rode him hard and fast, clenching around him and hitting my sweet spot with each pass, sending waves of pleasure to chase the spikes of pain that surged along my nerves. Meeting and doubling in strength and I only just muffled my scream as I came. I barely remembered to clamp down hard around Ryan before I fell into darkness, barely aware as he spurted inside me. 

Ryan was nuzzling at my neck as I came back to awareness. “Sire? Are you hurt?” I almost laughed at the absurdity of his question, of course I was bloody hurt. I was bleeding fairly heavily and his cock was glistening red. “Should I call Dr Hunter? Sire?”

I pulled Ryan into a kiss, all clashing teeth and crushing lips. “I will be fine.” At his uncertain look and his aborted glance at our no doubt blood-sodden sheets, I added, “It felt wonderful, love. But you could help me clean up.”

“Of course.” Ryan moved to retrieve the cloth we kept for such purposes, but I stopped him easily. 

“Use your tongue. The saliva will aid my healing.” I sighed contentedly as Ryan set to work cleansing me of all traces of our activity. His tongue dipped inside me as he shoved as much saliva inside my abused arse as possible. It was more pleasure, not that I had lied, vampire saliva aided our healing – ours and our prey's. It felt so bloody good to have his tongue touching me in my most intimate places, I was almost surprised I did not harden again. No, no I wasn't. I had forgotten that the blood loss would have dampened my ardour. I wondered if we still had a bottle nearby, I really wasn't ready to face the disapproval of Hattie just yet. Not that she would not soon learn of our escapades, for Ethel would have to change our sheets. 

Ryan pressed a kiss against my lips before he replaced them with his wrist. The rich, dark taste of blood dripped against my lips and I swiftly fastened them around Ryan's flesh, swallowing several times as I luxuriated in the essence of my lover. Finally I pulled free and licked the small wound he had made closed. I smiled up at Ryan. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” Ryan had a far away look in his eyes before he turned to stare deeply into my own. “You enjoyed that sex?”

“I did.” I could have stopped there but I knew I had to tell Ryan the truth, he deserved that. He deserved everything I could give him and much more besides. “It hurt like buggery to start with, but once the blood started to flow and the sweet spot was found... it was bloody wonderful.” 

“You want to have me like that?” 

Ryan sounded so uncertain I had to wonder if I had made an error in judgement. My second of the night. Had I pushed too far with the bloodplay? He had enjoyed what we had done previously, but maybe I had gone too far, too soon? I tugged him down for another kiss. “Only if you want to, Ryan,” I promised him. “It is merely another way to make love. For our kind,” I elaborated. “It would seriously injure a mortal, indeed, it would probably kill them.”

Ryan nodded, his look of uncertainly replaced by curiosity. “I think I would like to try it, sire. You looked so bloody high as you rode me.”

I breathed in relief. “Later, love. I think we would do well to build to that level.” I noticed Ryan's pout. “Every man and vampire had a point he can not go past.” I smiled at him. “And besides, my dear Ryan, I love it just as much when we make love for hours, our hips just rocking gently as we fall into bliss together.”

Ryan's expression took on a dreamy look as he remembered those marathon love-making sessions, slowly moving as one for hours at a time, if not days when we had the time. 

I yawned tiredly as the blood loss made its effects known. I felt Ryan pull me into his arms and I snuggled against him and slipped into sleep.

****

I woke sometime later to find myself lying on fresh, clean sheets and held tightly in Ryan's embrace, my head pillowed on his broad chest. I had obviously slept the sleep of the dead if I had not been awoken by the bedding being changed or myself cleansed. The night I had spent prowling around the streets of London and the sex with Ryan must have really taken it out of me... that and most likely the blood loss.

“Are you well.” Ryan pressed a kiss against my hair. “Sire? James? Do you still hurt? Should I call Dr Hunter?”

I had neither the wish nor the need to summon John to my bedside, and not just because he had to be on my list of suspects. I smiled at Ryan for I could see his concern over my well-being, I would have to reassure my lover and twisted until I could kiss him on the lips. “Honestly? I am sore. I will be for sometime.” At Ryan's worried look, I kissed him again. “I loved it, Ryan. It felt so, so good.”

“It did?” Ryan sounded shocked. “How could you enjoy that? I tore you so badly I feared you had lost too much blood.” Ryan obviously was still disturbed as he continued, “It looked like it hurt so much.”

“It did, my love. It did, but pleasure was there also. Such pleasure.” I knew I had a foolish grin on my face but did not care, not right now. “I have already shown you how pain can heighten pleasure, Ryan. What we did just took that pleasure and pain to the highest level.” I paused as I remembered his words from earlier, I had to know even though I feared what his answer would be. “Do you still want me to have you like that? To make you bleed as I tear your arse open?” I held my breath as I waited for Ryan's answer, his expression was thoughtful and I fought the urge to coax the answer I wanted from him. I would not force Ryan to participate if he did not wish too. 

Ryan tilted his head to one side as he considered his answer and then smiled at me. “Do not look so worried, James. I still want to try, I want to know what you like so much about having your arse torn asunder.”

I snorted at his comment. “Good, but only when you are ready.” I pulled him down for another kiss. “Now, love, I want you to do something for me.”

“Anything.” Ryan answered without hesitation. 

“Make love to me.” I smiled at Ryan's horrified expression. 

“So soon? You're still healing from this morning.”

I shook my head. “No, love. Slow and sweet.”

Ryan smiled and grabbed the oil. His relief on hearing how I wanted him to make love to me was palatable. “On your belly, my love.” 

I eagerly obeyed and had soon settled myself comfortable on my silk sheets as I opened my legs for Ryan's ministrations. I moaned as he eased my cheeks open and shivered in delight as his stubble rasped against my most intimate parts as he licked a stripe along my crack. It felt so bloody good and served to ease some of the soreness that still lingered from our earlier love-making. My hips wiggled on the bedding as he gently pushed his tongue inside me and lazily thrust it in and out. I shivered again at the feel of his saliva slipping inside my body and opened my legs wider in an unmistakeable request. I felt Ryan's warm breath as he chuckled against my skin and then his oiled finger stroked around my hole. The oil felt soothing as Ryan massaged it into my opening and I could not help the shudder as he seemed to pour the entire bottle inside me. It felt so good as he gently moved the finger inside me and I groaned and shoved back as he pressed against my sweet spot. Ryan's free hand caressed my back and arse before slipping around to stroke my cock, his touch teasing and barely there. I was soon lost in the twin feelings as he carefully opened me ready for his cock. 

I was drifting in pleasure when I felt Ryan pull his fingers free and I must have made a displeased sound as I heard his chuckle. Before I could drew breath to complain about his absence, he pressed his cock against my opening and slowly rubbed it against me. The sensation was wonderful and swiftly improved as he oh so gently pushed inside. Opening me up infinitely slowly as he slipped his cock inch by glorious inch into me until he filled me to the hilt. My still-sore opening spasmed around him and he trailed ghost-light fingers over my skin until I lay totally relaxed and open beneath him. His hips hardly moved as he rocked inside me, the tip of his cock barely brushing over my sweet spot and sending shivers of pleasure along my nerves. I felt so limp and boneless under his attention, apart from my rock-hard cock, while I allowed Ryan to do what he wished to me. I could feel the heat begin to coil slowly in my guts, ebbing and flowing as he took us towards our peak before keeping us there for what felt like an eternity of bliss until my orgasm flowed over me like a warm tide. As my arse spasmed and convulsed around Ryan I felt him pulse against the walls of my most intimate passage as he spilled his essence inside me. 

I moaned softly as Ryan withdrew, already missing his presence inside me. I moaned again as he spread my buttocks and his warm tongue licked and slurped and probed inside me as he collected all he had unloaded into me. I could do nothing but lay there and let Ryan touch me most intimately and lose myself in the pleasure he gave me. I was still boneless as I felt Ryan pull me into his arms and I was quite content to drift back to sleep.


	12. Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation begins to effect James and his lover and staff decide to take action before he suffers a breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta.

I sighed as I stared at the police report for the third murder. I really did not want to look at it, not after what I had nearly done that morning. I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose as a headache threatened. I knew I would look. I had to look. If only for the sake of the victims. I had to catch the murderer, no matter the cost to my own sanity. 

I ignored the autopsy report as I felt I could not stomach it at the moment and I could guess what horrors the murder had committed upon her poor body. Instead I turned to the witness statements and sipped from my glass of sweet blood. 

The statement of one Fanny Mortimer was of some interest, she had been nearby and neither seen or heard anything. Of greater interest was her comment that the steward's wife had heard nothing of the crime, something to consider later. 

I picked through the statements and quirked an eyebrow when I got to Louis Diemschutz. He had discovered the body of Elizabeth Stride when he had driven his pony and cart into Dutfield's Yard. What caught my attention was that his pony had shied to the left and refused to go further into the yard. I tapped my lip as I considered the possibilities, had the pony been scared by the blood he could smell in the air as many were, or had he been scared by the presence of the murderous vampire? Not that I would discoverer the answer, I might have many abilities beyond the ken of man but understanding animals was not one of them. 

I let the report drop to my desk for once unheeding of how untidy it fell as I massaged my temples. I had had enough of reading about these horrors and, ever since my actions this morning, I feared I was becoming contaminated by this madman's crimes. I was not sure if I could continue investigating his crimes and attempting to catch the murdering scum while hanging on to my sanity. I just did not know any more. 

It was sometime later when I heard my study door open and felt Ryan's arms hold me tight as he rocked me. “We will get through this together, my sire. My love. My James.” I turned and buried my face in his chest, clinging to him like a helpless child. 

It was dark when I next woke, drifting just this side of consciousness in Ryan's comforting and never-faltering arms. I could hear voices and slowly dragged myself back to awareness, shifting in Ryan's arms. 

“Sire?” Ryan's hand smoothed down my back. “How do you feel?”

“What do you think?” I grumbled as I pulled free of his embrace. I quirked an eyebrow as my gaze landed on both Becker and Hattie. Neither was looking best pleased and I assumed I was the cause of their displeasure. Really, sometimes I had to wonder who was the master and who the servant.

“Becker, prepare the household to move to the estate.”

I turned and glared at Ryan, my voice low as I growled. “What do you think you are doing?”

Ryan bowed his head slightly in submission to me, but he did not back down. “You need to rest, my sire.”

“No. I need to hunt down this murdering...” I cut my words off as I remembered Hattie was in my presence. 

“No, Sir James.” Hattie took my hand in hers. “You must rest.” I made the mistake of looking in her eyes and saw the worry and concern within. I also saw the strength that meant she would not let me work myself into insanity. 

“Please, James.” Ryan's mouth nuzzled against my neck. “It will just be for a few weeks. I will inform Abberline you have been struck down with some malady and require rest to recuperate from its ravages.”

“The Council will not be pleased.” The recent events must have affected me more than I had realised if I had so easily agreed to leaving London for my estates and disobey the Council so openly.

“You will be no good to anyone if you work yourself into your second grave.” Hattie told me firmly as she squeezed my hand. “Let Master Ryan look after you.”

I felt I was losing myself to my emotions which seemed to be out of my control for the first time in so many years. I feared Ryan, Becker and Hattie were right to worry about me as I almost sobbed and turned to bury my face against Ryan's strong chest and felt his arms hold me tightly and safely.

****

I did not mention my breakdown in Ryan's arms to him and was relieved that he remained silent on the subject himself, although I knew he watched me and was reluctant to leave me alone with my thoughts. If Ryan was not close to me I had either Becker or Hattie working nearby and it did not take much thought to know they watched over me as they organised our relocation to my estates. Indeed, time seemed to fly by and I soon found myself on my estates in the country with my household instead of investigating the terrible crimes as I had been instructed to.

On the fifth day I woke in Ryan's arms and felt more carefree than I had for so long, the darkness that had enveloped me recently vanquished by the clean country air. I turned in Ryan's arms and kissed him awake before trailing more kisses and nips down his body. 

Ryan woke with a needy groan and moved beneath me, moaning encouragingly as I touched his most sensitive places before taking his heated flesh in my mouth. His fingers dug into my hair as he urged me on, seeking more of my mouth around him as he could gain. I licked up and down him before teasing his tip with my tongue as I held him firmly down. I took as much of him as I could before swallowing around him, over and over again, until he stiffened and erupted down my throat. I continued to suck and nuzzle Ryan until I was sure I had milked him dry before moving up his body to kiss him and share his essence with him. 

“Sire?” Ryan asked me, the worry hovering in his eyes combating with the pleasure I had just given him. 

“Thank you, Ryan. For everything.” I lightly nipped his nose. “I had not realised how much the murders had cast darkness upon my heart.” 

“You are feeling better?” Ryan stroked a hand down my back. 

“I am.” I smiled as I nudged his hip with my erection and felt Ryan moan and open his legs for me. “Want something, my love?”

“Tease,” Ryan muttered as he grasped my arse and tugged me between his legs. 

I gasped as he bucked upwards and rubbed himself against my cock, sending sparks of pleasure through my body. I needed him so badly it hurt and cast about for the oil so we could be one. Ryan thrust the bottle into my questing hand and I wasted little time in preparing him. Although I was thorough, I had no wish to cause him pain. This love-making would be all about pleasure.

Ryan was writhing and moaning beneath my touch as he begged me to take him, to make him whole. I would not rush, even though he was driving me mad with desire, and carefully thrust and twisted three fingers deep inside his tempting arse. 

Finally, I took a deep breath as I lined up and sank slowly into him. The feel of his body claiming me was intense. I bottomed out as he took me to the hilt and I had to pause to gather my wits. He pulled me down for a kiss as his hands gripped my hips and encouraged me to move. I slid slowly out before easing back inside him. It felt so bloody good as we moved as one and our breaths mingling as we kissed. We rocked together towards bliss, but I was still surprised as it flooded through me like a warm tide and I felt Ryan spill himself between us. 

From that day on I saw the world through clearer eyes. The blackness that had eaten away at my sanity retreated and was finally banished. I spent long hours walking and riding across my lands, making sure my tenants were happy with their lot and supping some of the new young blood that had come of age in my absence. Ryan and I also made love every night, sometimes in our bedroom, occasionally out under the stars. It was a time of gentle rocking together to our joint satisfaction, by mutual and silent agreement we never partook or even mentioned the more violent loveplay we had engaged in. Instead we spent many hours locked together in a slow dance of pleasure, barely moving together as we slowly climbed to bliss. It had been a truly wonderful time when we had been able to be ourselves with no fears of being denounced as either lovers or vampires.


	13. All Good Things Have To End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James moves his household back to London and must face the Council once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta.

Of course, it had to end and I knew my household had been worried the day I announced I was returning to London. I was both well rested and relaxed and I still had a murderer to track down. This time, however, I would let Ryan shoulder more of the burden, even if he could only support me and hold me through the night as I dealt with another murder. I knew Ryan did not want me to become involved again, but I knew I must. There had been no murders while we had been away at my estate and I could not risk My Lady making any more comments about me or mine involvement in the murders. I had to find the murderer or risk losing everything to her plots and plans, whatever they might be. The letter that had waited my return did not surprise me; I had expected a summons to the Council as soon as they had learned of my return. 

“Do not go, my sire.” Ryan went down on his knees to beg me to stay away from the Council. 

I caressed his face. “I know you still fear for me, my love, but ignoring this summons will not help. The Council would take it as an admittance of some guilt and order my capture and, indeed, even torture to discover what I am hiding.”

Ryan's head shot up at my words and he clung to me so tightly. “Let me come with you.”

“No!” I barked out and felt Ryan flinch as he rested against my legs. “I will not risk you, my dearest. If something should go wrong, I want you to promise me you will travel to Paris and to Christiana. Tell her all that has occurred and she will guide your steps.”

“No.” Ryan shook his head firmly. “I will not leave you.”

My heart filled with love for him. “Sweetheart. My dearest, dearest Ryan. I will not come to any harm.”

“Then why do I need to promise?” 

Ryan sounded so sullen that I had to smile, even though that earned me a glare from him. “So I do not worry over you, my love.” I drew him in for a kiss, gentle and searching and stared deep into his eyes until he nodded in reluctant surrender to my will. “Thank you.” I needed his promise for I was not as sure as I had told him for the Council could be capricious when the mood suited it. I could not help but fear this might be such a moment, for punishing me would serve to scare all other vampires into submission of the Council's will. I could only hope that the Council was more interested in discovering the true identity of the murderer than in exercising their power.

****

Charlie had been even less happy than usual on our journey to Black Hall and I knew he would pace agitatedly until I emerged from that dismal place. It generated such a warmth in my long-cold heart that my people cared about me, even knowing that I was one of the damned creatures of the night.

That warmth bolstered my spirits as I walked into that death-shrouded estate and heard the frost crunch under my boots. Winter had come early to this forsaken land. I found myself standing in front of the Hall's door far too quickly for my liking but still rapped it with my cane as waiting would only delay the inevitable. I did find my mind idly wondering if the same butler would answer the door as very few ever lasted more than a month or two before displeasing My Lady in some way. I believe one had had the audacity to pour blood into her glass before she had given him leave and had spent the rest of his short, miserable existence in some considerable pain. I had heard acid had been involved. 

The creak of the door jolted me from my less than pleasant thoughts and I blinked at the butler who stood before me. His skin was a smooth black, the black of high quality coal, while his hair was bone-white. His yellow eyes burned from deep under massive brows. Something was off about him until I realised his body was the size of a child's while his limbs gave him the height and reach of an adult. I might not know what he was but I did know he was not human and I wondered who he had annoyed to be sent to serve the Council and the well-known vicious temper of My Lady. 

I notice that he seemed to glide along the floor, soundlessly and unhurried, before I threw those irrelevant thoughts from my mind as I followed him through the halls to the council chamber. He opened the doors and stood aside for me. I did not hesitate at the threshold as showing fear would only reflect badly on me, instead I strolled proudly and confidently into those chambers and waited for the inquisition to begin. 

“So, the prodigal son has returned.” My Lady swept into the chamber and took her seat. 

“My Lady.” I bowed politely to her as I waited for the axe to fall. She was not happy with me. 

“There have been no murders since you departed London so hastily.”

“So I have been informed, My Lady.” I kept my answers simple and polite. I did not want to give her ammunition to use against me, at least, no more than I already had. I was most relieved that I had refused Ryan's request to summon Dr Hunter after our bout of violent sex. It would look extremely bad for me – for both of us – to have engaged in such bloody love-making when there was a mad vampiric murderer on the hunt in London. Even the fact that we were both men would have been used against me, twisted from a love of men to a hatred of women. Of course, that had not been my only reason for not summoning the good doctor, I had reluctantly had to add him to my list of suspects for he had both the skill and the ability to dominate. 

“How do you explain that?” My Lady's voice interrupted my musing. She leaned forward and I could not help my thoughts turning to the punishment she might have planned for me. 

“I can not, My Lady.” I truly did not know and knew better than to pretend I did. 

“And you still claim not to know the identity of the murderer?”

“I do, My Lady.” I stood straighter. I would not face my fate as a cowering coward. 

“Why should I believe you?”

“It is the truth, My Lady.” I wished I could look around to see who else was present at this meeting. To check if the other Council members were present or if Cyril Greene and others of My Lady's Line were there. I would like some warning as to my fate, even if I could do nothing to avoid it. I certainly had no wish to be at Cyril's mercy, for the man had none. He was also on my list of suspects – how could he not be? Not only had he been a butcher by trade as a mortal but now he served My Lady as her torturer. Truth be told, Cyril was at the top of my list, I had heard enough of My Lady's punishments and witnessed a few to know just how inventive Cyril could be. 

“I believe him, My Lady.” I almost breathed a sigh of relief as I heard the tones of My Lord. “I have never known Jamessss to lie. Not to the Council.” 

“There is always the first time. How do we know he is not the murderer?” My Lady's words had my hand tightening around my cane even though I refused to draw the concealed blade within and demand satisfaction. One did not when faced with My Lady. She had obviously noticed my reaction as she smiled coldly, “Or maybe your young man. Ryan, isn't it?” My hand clenched until my knuckles turned white, until I took a deep breath and consciously relaxed my hand. “Well, James?”

“I am not the killer, My Lady. Ryan is not the killer.” I dropped to my knees and bared my throat to her. “If you do not believe me, test me.” I had taken the only choice I had and had given her a direct challenge, to prove her speculation or to withdraw it. She would not forget my actions.

I felt My Lord's hand on my shoulder as he spoke. “Jamessss. Would you ssssubmit yourssself and Ryan to being quessstioned by a Sssseer?”

“I would, My Lord.” I knew Ryan had nothing to hide and neither did I... nothing if the Seer only asked me if I or Ryan was the murderer. 

“I would appear that we musssst sssssummon a Ssssseer than, My Lady.”

I could not decide whether to curse My Lord for angering My Lady, or kiss him for forcing her into allowing a Seer into London. 

“Agreed.” My Lady did not sound at all happy. “The Seer will arrive in two days. You and Ryan will be questioned. If you are innocent, you may ask her your questions.”

I nodded. “My thanks, My Lady.” I held my temper at her admittance that the Seer was that close, that she had deliberately not summoned the Seer when all of London, all of England and even the Continent and beyond was awash with news of the murders. However, I kept my tongue still, for I could not risk upsetting My Lady any more than I already had.

****

I did not talk to anyone on my return home although I could sense the worried looks exchanged behind me. I strolled purposely into my study and poured myself a glass. My hand shaking so much that the bottle tinkled against the glass. I did not resist when Ryan took the bottle from me and poured both of us a glass, pressing mine into my hand and helping me to drink. I downed the blood in one, not even tasting it and held out my glass for another. Ryan allowed me one more glass before he pulled me against him and held me against his broad chest.

“Sire?” I could hear the worry in Ryan's voice. No doubt he feared all the good of our time in the country had been undone by one meeting with the Council. 

“I...” My voice cracked and I took a deep breath. “I am fine.”

Ryan's harsh laugh had my head snap up to look at him. His fingers caressed my face and I leaned into them. “Do not lie, my sire.” He stepped closer and kissed me softly. “Please. Tell me what has happened.”

I sighed. I had hoped to avoid this conversation for this night. “My Lady accused me of being the killer.” As Ryan tensed against me, I held him tight. “She also accused you of being the killer.”

Ryan swallowed and I could see the merest hint of fear appear in his eyes. “What happens now, James?”

I pressed a kiss against his forehead. “I challenged her to prove it and My Lord suggested I... we are to be tested by a Seer.”

Ryan snorted. “So, we finally get a Seer to help us.”

“Yes. My Lord is rather sneaky when he wishes to be so.” I rested my forehead against Ryan's, holding him tight and not wanting to let him go. 

“Sire?” Ryan's voice was worried and I lifted my head to look into his concerned eyes. “We are innocent, what still worries you?”

I sighed. I should have known Ryan would have noticed my reaction. “I have kept information from the Council. Some of the witnesses saw more than they remember.”

“So you said, my sire.” I could hear the confusion in his voice. 

“I could have broken though the domination.” I closed my eyes as I remembered what had happened when I had tried that. How Harvey had shivered and convulsed and I tried to pull free of Ryan's arms as bile rose in my throat. 

Ryan refused to allow me my freedom, instead holding me tighter and rocking me gently. He pressed kisses to my lips, to my closed eyes, to any part of my face he could reach. “No, sire. That almost broke you. They cannot blame you for that.”

“They could.” I did not hide the fear I felt, not so much for myself but for Ryan. 

I felt Ryan tug me up the stairs and into our bedroom, he stripped us both with a sure touch and pushed me down onto the bed. He felt so good as he covered me with his body and pressed me down into the bedding, searing my skin as he pressed hot kisses over my skin. I could not help but buck and wriggle for more of his mouth, moans of need dropping from my lips as I urged him on. I groaned in disappointment when his lips left me bereft and I opened my eyes to quirk an eyebrow at him. “Ryan?”

“Make love to me.” Ryan kept his gaze lowered as he made his request. 

“How could I resist you?” I turned on my side so I could see all of him. My breath was once more taken by the flat planes and smooth muscles that filled his frame, to his leaking cock that jutted so enticingly from his dark blond curls. 

As I shifted to reach for the oil, his hand gripped mine. I looked into his eyes, blazing with need and sending that fire racing through my own nerves. “No, James. Take me. Now. I want to feel it.”

I swallowed. Ryan could not mean what I thought he did. “We agreed to go slowly, Ryan.”

Ryan pulled my captured hand down to his satin-sheathed steel and then further down to his entrance. “I want to know what it feels like. To have you tearing into me.”

I swallowed hard. Not so much from his comment, although those words went straight to my cock and had it thrumming in need. No, it was that Ryan thought I feared the worse from the Council and desired this act for me. I could not do it. “No, my sweet Ryan. After the meeting. I promise.” I pulled Ryan into my arms and canted my hips so that our cocks rubbed together. I could not risk penetration, firmly convinced as I was that Ryan would seek the pain I had promised him felt so good. I needed to convince him everything would be fine. Even if I could not convince myself.


	14. Meeting The Seer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lester and Ryan are tested by the Seer, and engage in bloodplay back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta.

The day of our meeting with the Council and Seer dawned grey and miserable, which matched Ryan's mood perfectly. I drove him to study and did not let up, anything to occupy his mind. His mind and my own. I had also drilled into him over and over again that he must not react to My Lady's comments.

Charlie was even less happy about driving us to Black Hall than the last time and I had no problem guessing why. The whole household was buzzing with what might happen. I had informed Becker that is the worse happened, that my Will was in my study safe. I had left everything to Christiana for I knew she would take care of my staff and estate. 

Ryan walked beside me as one bound for the scaffold and I reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly before letting go. We reached the door far sooner that I would have wished for but I knew a delay would just make My Lady more suspicious. 

I strolled down the hallway with both Ryan and the butler in my wake. I had nothing to fear from the Seer and entered the Council Chamber without announcement. I did have a momentary thought that I might have caused the butler problems, but I had Ryan to worry about. 

“Ah. You came.” My Lady's sneer almost had me snap at her and I just hoped Ryan remembered my earlier words. I turned slightly and released a breath as I saw him standing tense but motionless under her barbs. 

“Of course, My Lady.” I bowed to her and to the other Council members. Ryan's caught breath had me looking away and I understood why he had reacted. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with waist length blond hair that fell down her back in soft waves and her soft brown eyes met my gaze. But that was not what gained my attention. My eyebrow quirked as I realised the woman before me was not a vampire... then what was she? I had always believed that the Seers were vampires, at least the rumours I had heard mentioned them living for years, maybe the title passed from mother to daughter?

“Thissss isss the Ssseer. Ssshe will tesst Ryan firssst.” My Lord spoke gravely. 

“I trust you have no objection, James?” My Lady asked, obviously fishing for a reaction so she could pronounce us guilty. 

“None, My Lady.” I did, of course, but none that would do me well here. 

Ryan dropped to his knees as the Seer approached him. I saw the shiver that ran down his back as she touched his head and his face twist as if in pain. I must have moved towards them as I suddenly felt a steel grip on my arms. “Ssstand fassst, Jamesss. Ssshe isss not hurting him.”

I wished I could have believed him as Ryan collapsed gasping on the ground once she had released him. I wanted to go to him, to comfort him but Hrothgar's grip made that impossible. 

“On your kneessss, Jamesss.” 

I tore my gaze from Ryan to met that of the Seer. Close up I could see the faint lines that belayed the original thoughts of her youth. I knew I had no choice if I wished to leave this chamber alive and dropped to my knees. I took one last look at Ryan and relaxed slightly as I saw My Lord with him as he held a glass of blood to my Ryan's lips. Turning back to the Seer I met her eyes and nodded. Ice water ran down my back as she touched my head and I understood why Ryan had shivered. Then I felt a sensation on my skin, one I could not name. It soon built and drove into my mind, like a thousand ants biting and crawling and seeking information. I could think of nothing but the pain and gasped out like a landed fish when I was released to lie on the floor. Too tired to resist when I was held closed and it took me some moments to realise Ryan held me tightly in his arms as he poured blood down my throat. 

I swallowed several times before I managed to speak, and even then my voice was croaky as if I had long been silent. “May we leave now?”

My Lady did not look happy as she swept from the chamber and it was My Lord who answered. “Yesss, Jamesss. If you wisssh to ssspeak to the Ssseer you will have to come back tomorrow. My Lady will not allow her free rein in London. But for now, go home. Rest.”

****

I could not lose the feeling of uncleanliness and had baths ran for myself and for Ryan. I could not stand the thought of sleeping on my silk sheets with that woman's touch on my skin. I was quite fierce in my scrubbing and only stopped when Ryan took the brush from me and kissed my lips. His tongue seeking entrance and I willingly allowed him inside and duelled with him.

He pulled back with a wide grin and a sideways look at our bed. I quirked an eyebrow as he drew me towards it before kissing me once more. His voice a mere breath over my ear, “Make me bleed, my sire.”

I could not breathe for a moment. I had to make sure, even though my cock had instantly firmed at his words. “Are you sure, my Ryan?”

Ryan nodded and his pout melted my resistance. “I will make this good for you, I promise” I sucked at his full lower lip. “It will hurt. It will be like no pain you have ever felt. It will feel as if you are being torn apart as I enter and fill you.” I lightly nipped his swollen lip. “But then the pleasure takes over and the pain makes it so much sweeter.” I bit firmly into Ryan's lip and felt his blood fill my mouth and knew it filled his. As always, his taste was exquisite and I wanted more. I wanted, no I needed, to possess him. All of him. “Ryan? Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes, James.” Ryan licked his lip and my heart skipped a beat. “I want you to fuck me so hard I will scream and bleed and not be able to walk without remembering what we do tonight.”

I growled low in my throat at his words and wasted no more time in foreplay. I picked him up and tossed him onto the bed and smiled as he bounced on the bed. The sight of his privates bobbing with the motion, of his cock hard and needy for me was almost too much for me. I was upon him in a heartbeat as I took him deep inside my mouth, teasing and sucking him until he groaned and writhed on the bed. “You really do like my silk sheets.” 

“I like you better, my sire.” Ryan moaned as he held himself open for me, his knees pressed against his chest and his entrance lain bare to my sight. I took a deep steadying breath as I lined myself up against his twitching opening and I looked up to meet his steady gaze. “Please, sire.”

I needed no further urging and pressed firmly against him, feeling his muscle resist until it finally gave and I found myself half-buried within his spasming arse. I looked up and Ryan's face was a rictus of pain as I forced myself deeper inside his unprepared arse. I felt him clench and convulse around me as I pushed fully inside him. His arse was the tightest I had ever known and it felt so bloody wonderful as it squeezed almost painfully around my cock. I took a deep breath to calm my needs and looked deep into Ryan's pain-glazed eyes. “Ryan?”

“Please,” Ryan gasped as he panted in pain, his face twisting and his cock wilting under my assault.

“Forgive me.” I closed my eyes as I gathered my control to withdraw from the exquisite ecstasy of his arse. “I should not have agreed.” Before I could move I cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure as Ryan clamped down hard, his tight passage squeezing me so hard it brought tears to my eyes. “Oh God. Yes.”

Ryan grinned at me as he relaxed and clamped down on my cock, over and over again. “Does that feel good?” 

“You bloody know it does.” I gasped in need before I shoved myself fully inside of Ryan. I felt his flesh tear and part under my assault as the heavy tang of fresh blood filled the air. 

“Oh fuck!” Ryan gasped out, his head thrown back as he writhed on the bed and squeezed so tightly around me I thought I would pass out from the pain. “Hurts.”

I took a deep breath as I sought to control my need to move. Once I felt I was in fully control once more, I leaned forward to kiss him on the lips, biting my own lip and letting my blood drip into Ryan's mouth. “Can I fuck you?”

“Yes.” Ryan's voice was full of pain, but not pain alone for I could hear his need. 

I began to move, feeling his blood ease my slide out of his abused arse. I paused with my tip just inside him before reaching under his hips to hold him in position. I looked deep into Ryan's eyes as I shoved forward. Hard and unforgiving. Hitting his prostate with unerring accuracy. Ryan bucked into me as he screamed in agony. I almost stopped until I felt his cock jab into my stomach. Hard and leaking and needy. 

I smiled fiercely as I continued my movements, taking him hard and fast. The smell of blood filled the room and drove me on. I needed to possess him. I needed to come so badly it hurt. Ryan dug his nails hard into my back, scrabbling, and I could feel blood welling from the marks he gouged into my flesh. I howled as he lifted his head and sank his fangs into my neck and greedily sucked mouthfuls of my blood. 

My body jerked as I came inside him, my hips thrusting helplessly as I emptied myself over and over inside him. That triggered Ryan's own orgasm and he squeezed so tight around me I felt he would milk me dry and suck my soul from my body with it. 

I collapse on top of Ryan, completely exhausted and utterly sated. It took me several moments to coordinate my limbs enough to gently ease out of Ryan and I watched my blood-covered cock slip from his arse. Watched as blood and come dripped from his hole and down his thighs before soaking into the bedding, dying it a vivid red. 

I licked my lips as I leaned forwards, holding his legs wide as I licked a stripe along the crack of his arse and sighed at the mingled taste of his blood and my come. It was fucking wonderful. Ryan moaned as my tongue danced over his skin as I lathed all signs of our actions from his skin. I turned my attention to his torn opening, sighing as I pressed my tongue deep inside him. I pushed as much saliva as possible into his open body to aid his healing. I knew he would be sore for sometime after this, but I could only hope he would be willing to let me do this to him again sometime.


	15. The Seer's Riddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James finally gets to ask the Seer his question... and is horrified by the price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta.

The next evening had me once again standing in the Council chambers, alone this time for I had not wanted Ryan in this place of death. I quirked a curious eyebrow as an old man, bent doubled with age, held the door open for the veiled Seer and a boy with the most brilliant blue eyes I had even seen who followed behind her with a box. 

She seated herself and looked expectantly at me. “What do you wish to see?”

I felt a shiver of foreboding run up my spine as I met her now revealed eyes, but I needed to know. “Can you... see the identity of the Whitechapel murderer?”

She shook her head. “That is not how Seeing works.”

“Oh?” I had not realised that. “How does it work? If you do not mind my asking.”

The Seer smiled at me. “I see the future but it is unclear. It is up to you to discern the truth from the words I speak.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Riddles and mysteries?”

“Quite.” She did not sound upset by my comment, for which I was glad. It would hardly do my search any good if I finally had a Seer to consult and insulted her. “Now, tell me the tale.”

“You have not read the newspapers?”

“But of course. Tell me of what the papers did not say.”

I nodded and told her all that I knew of the matter, especially what the papers had not know as the police did not. 

When I had finished the Seer motioned for the boy to bring her the box. She opened it and released the flumes from a stoppered vessel. She inhaled deeply and I watched as her eyes fluttered and her pupils widened until her eyes seemed almost black. Her voice was low, guttural and sent a shiver down my back. “Ere Patrick's favoured sings no more; fair queen in her Flower Court, cruelly betrayed shall be.”

I blinked at her words as I wondered what they meant. I was hardly aware as she turned and walked away, her posture no longer straight but bent and crooked.

****

I had spent the day trying to make sense of the Seer's riddle but that night I found myself once more visiting Black Hall. No matter how much I hated coming here it was my duty to bid the Seer a safe journey. However I found the atmosphere suffocating and slipped out of the side door for air. It was a lovely evening, the sky cloudless and I could clearly see the moon and stars. It looked lovely and I just wished I could have been at home with Ryan, enjoying the night in his arms.

The nicker of a horse drew my attention as I rounded the corner of the Hall and I stopped to examine the matched pair that stood before me. A nicely formed bay pair although not, in my expert opinion, as good as my own. I would put them at 150 guineas each, while my own beautiful boys, Phobos and Deimos, had been 250 apiece.

The soft scuffle of boots and the drag of a case pulled my attention from the horses to the bent form of an old man hauling the Seer's luggage to her carriage. He appeared to be struggling with a particularly heavy trunk so I stepped forward to help him. As my hand reached for the case the old man turned his brilliant blue eyes to me. I took a step back, my mouth opened in shock as I stared at him in horror. Those eyes. I had seen them barely a day ago, staring at me out of that boy's face. My mind flashback to the end of my audience, the image of the Seer's hand on the boy's shoulder. It had been twisted and gnarled as that of an old woman's. My God. What was she?

I heard the door open and stared at the beautiful features of the Seer as she came down the steps, another young boy's hand in hers. Before I could utter a word I was grasped in a steely grip and dragged back into the shadows and held fast against my captor. A hand clamped over my mouth and Hrothgar growled in my ear. “Stand fast, James.”

Hrothgar held me still until the Seer's carriage had clattered out of the Hall and on its way to God only knew where. I knew better than to hope he would release me once she was out of sight and I was not surprised to find myself inside the Hall. Hrothgar finally let me go when I was deep inside the Hall, when I spun to face him I caught the pitying look on My Lord's face. 

“You knew?” My voice was accusatory and I saw him sigh as he shook his head. 

“Now you know, my young Jamesss. The price to sssee isss not paid by the Ssseer.”

I almost reeled as I realised my need to learn who the killer was, my need not to harm the innocent witnesses, had cruelly ripped the youth and vigour from that young boy grown old and bent before his time. My God. She had left with a new young boy, how had I forgotten that until this instant? I could save him from that fate. I whirled to run out of the Hall and to my carriage. My matched pair would soon overtake her and I could save that boy. 

Before I could take two steps Hrothgar's arms wrapped around me and held me fast once more. “No, James. Hear My Lord out.” 

His grip was unbreakable and I had no choice but I was not willing to give up on the boy. “But the boy.”

“No.” My Lord's voice snapped my head around to face him. I could not believe he would let the same fate befall to that boy. “Sssshe hasss already touched him, my dear Jamessss. No matter where you might hide him, ssshe would reach him and sssap hisss youth. The yearssss would weigh on hissss sssshouldersss as ssshe drained hissss life assss ssssandsss in an hourglasssss.”

I sagged in Hrothgar's grip. “How?”

Hrothgar growled so deeply I felt the rumble against my back. “Now you know why Seers are so rare, James.”

“We... how can we let them...” I could not form the words to express my horror.

“Becausssse they have ussseful abilitiessss, Jamesssss.” My Lord spoke softly to me. “I had not reasssliesssed you did not know.”

“My Lady's hatred of them?” I had to know whether it was due to the evil nature of the Seers or to her own secrets she wished to remain hidden. 

“Go home, Jamessss. Go ssspend time with young Ryan. Forget what hassss happened.”

I was finally allowed to leave that dread Hall as dawn beckoned and for once I cared not that I almost ran down the drive. At the end I stared down the road she had travelled but I knew I would not be able to track her. Too many possibilities lay that way, she might not even still be in England, having left by ship. 

I almost jumped at Charlie's sleepy voice. “Zur, bist 'ee brave? 'Ee zeemz betwattled.” I nodded that I was fine and climbed into my carriage. Silent as my thoughts were black at the evil I had witnessed. 

I remained silent even once I was home, retiring to my study and shutting the door hard so all would know not to disturb me in my solitude. As I sat behind my desk and stared at the paperwork upon it unseeingly, I changed that to all except one, of course. I was not surprised when the door opened and Hattie entered. 

“Sir James? What ails thee?” Hattie was before me before I had even noticed her cross the distance betwixt door and desk. Under her steady and determined eye I finally told her what had occurred at the Hall. She surprised me as she cursed, hard and fierce, before cuffing me around my ear. “If you do nothing with the riddle of that black-hearted hag then that boy gave his life for nothing.” I blinked at her, shocked to the core by her reaction. “Oh I know of her sort, sir. Sold her soul to the Devil for her powers. Evil through and through.”

I nodded for I understood what she was saying, I had to solve the riddle, for the boy's sake as much as the victims. “I will.” I sighed. “Or I will try. I had no luck before yesterday.” 

I flinched as Hattie cuffed me once more. “You are a fool, Sir James, and I do not mind telling you so. Go and see My Lord, he is a great scholar and will solve it for you.”

I had already come to that conclusion myself but... to set foot in Black Hall once more, to visit one who had known the horror of the Seer's powers and had willingly paid that price, for it had not taken me long to realise that the boy must have been local and given to the Seer in payment for her services. 

Hattie's voice was soft as she took my hand in hers. “It gladdens me how much you care for us mortals, but now you must put that aside to find this killer before he kills again.”

I sighed softly and gave her a small smile, although I doubted it reached my eyes. “I must do as you say, Hattie, even though I would rather never set foot in Black Hall again. Not after...” 

“The Devil take her black soul, and mark my words, he will.” Hattie nodded firmly. “And I'll spread word of her looks to my kin. We takes care of our bad'uns like your Council does yours.”

“If you need aid in that, ask.” I told Hattie as I gripped her hand firmly. 

“Tis for us to deal with, Sir James, but I thank you for your offer.” Hattie straightened and smoothed her clothing. “I'll have Charlie prepare your carriage for tonight, sir, but for now go to Ryan. He has been half-mad with worry this night.” She looked closely at me. “And I'll send up a bite to eat.” I heard her mutter as she left my study, “Up all night at the Hall and they didn't feed him.”

****

I hesitated as I entered our bedroom and found Ryan staring at the heavy drapes. In my upset state I had not considered how it would have been for him to wait for me all night long, not knowing where I was or what had happened to me. I swept into the room and embraced him, holding him tight against me as I kissed him senseless.

It seemed no more than an instant before we were naked together on the bed. I continued to kiss him as I caressed him, I could not seem to get enough of the touch of him. I finally pulled free of his lips and looked him deep in the eye. “I am sorry I worried you so, Ryan. It was not my intention and I could not send word I was detained.”

“Can you tell me what happened, my sire?”

I sighed as Ryan nibbed at my ear before his words caressed it. His voice was gentle as he continued to lick and nip at me ear. The sensations he sent running through my body had me moaning and tilting my head to allow him better access. 

“Sire?” 

Ryan asked as he nipped sharply at my ear, obviously attempting to get an answer from me but, unfortunately for him, it had the opposite effect. I moaned once more as my cock twitched in need. I finally gathered enough willpower to push Ryan away and smiled at his pout. “I cannot think when you do that to me.” At Ryan's smug and calculating look I will admit I wondered what I had let myself in for, although I was also convinced that Ryan would make it wonderful. I shook my head, enough of these thoughts of pleasure, for now at least, Ryan had asked a question and he deserved an answer, even if I did not really wish to give it. 

“Sire? James? You do not have to tell me.”

Ryan sounded so gentle and caring I fell in love with him all over again. “No, my love. You deserve to know.” I took a deep breath. “You recall I told you the Seer was not a vampire?” At Ryan's nod I continued, “It turns out that that is not entirely correct.” I paused as I tried to think how to word what needed to be said and decided to go for the direct route. “She consumes the life of mortals, ageing them rapidly. A young boy I saw less than two days past had been aged to decrepitude by last night.”

Ryan looked at me in shock. “How?”

“I know not, my love. I was so shocked and angry at My Lord that I did not ask. I left as soon as I could and came straight back here.” I sighed softly as I pulled Ryan back against me and stroked a hand down his back to comfort both of us. “I must return to Black Hall tonight.”

“What?” I smiled as Ryan blushed slightly when he realised he had forgotten his manners. 

“I must ask My Lord for help with the Seer's riddle.” I sighed deeply, “I wish I did not have to return to the Council, but if I do not try and solve that riddle and catch the killer, I have wasted that boy's life.”

Ryan nodded. “What will happen to the Seer now?”

“I know not. Hattie told me she will spread word of her description amongst her people. From Hattie's words, I believe the Seer will meet her deserved punishment if the Witches catch up with her. 

“Good.” 

I smiled as I pulled Ryan harder against me and caressed him. I felt him return the attention but neither of us took it any further. This was about comfort and being together, not sex. We only broke apart briefly for the meal Hattie had prepared for us.

****

I shifted uncomfortably from foot-to-foot as I waited for My Lord to arrive. I had no idea how to react to him. Guilt ate at my heart for I had asked for the aid of the Seer and realised that by his actions, My Lord had spared me the pain of paying the Seer. I had no idea what would have happened if I had refused her price.

“Sssshe would have taken two boysss in hissss place. Onessss from your essstate, my dear boy.” My Lord seemed to have the ability to know what I was thinking, although I doubted my thoughts were that hidden. “I am sssssorry, my young Jamesss, I thought you knew of the Sssseersss' price. It was only when I sssaw your expresssssion when you realisssed ssshe wasss no vampire that I realissed you did not. I have never been sssso glad I forced My Lady to call her inssstead of leaving the payment in your handsss.”

“I...” My voice faltered and I swallowed before I tried again. “I must apologise for my behaviour, My Lord.”

My Lord waved his hand dismissively. “No, young Jamessss. To ssssee one assss old asssss yourssself who sssstill possssesssesss the humanity you do, it warmssss my cold heart.” He nodded to himself as he took a seat. “The riddle, my boy.”

I informed him of the Seer's cursed riddle and poured him a glass of blood to nurse as he thought. I glanced at him and he indicated I should have a glass too. It was excellent as I would have expected of the Council's own supplies. With My Lord bent over the riddle in thought I found myself wondering his study and perusing his books. 

I almost jumped as he spoke. “Pick one and ssssit down, Jamesss, your pacing is mossst dissstracting.”

“I apologise” I took the first book that seemed of interest and took the indicated seat. It was actually an excellent choice as I was soon lost in the words and emotions the author engendered in his work. I did not notice the passage of time and was jolted from my reading by My Lord clearing his throat. “My Lord?”

“Take the book with you to finish, Jamesss.”

“My thanks, My Lord.” I smiled as I was most interested in finishing the book. I shook my head as I remembered why I was here. “I am sorry, My Lord. You have solved the riddle?”

“I have ssssolved part of the riddle, Jamesss. The first line, 'Ere Patrick'ssss favoured sssingssss no more'. It refersss to Sssst Patrick and hisss favourite psssalm ssssinger, a Ssst Benignusss.”

“My Lord?” I am not too prideful to admit I did not understand My Lord's statement. 

My Lord almost sighed at my lack of knowledge. “Ssst Benignusss' feasssst day isss the 9th of November. Your next murder will be committed on that day, before twelve midnight as it isss before he sssingsss no more.”

“And the second line, My Lord, have you any thoughts?”

My Lord shook his head. “I do not. I believe it isss a clue to either the victim or the place sssshe will be killed. It mentionssss a queen, flowerssss and a court, it might be a Royal Park.”

I frowned in thought. “No, I think not. All the other murders were on the streets and yards off of them. I do not believe he would change his methods, not after killing so many in the same way.” 

“Then I am at a losssss asss to itssss meaning, Jamessss. Look to the sssstreet mapssss of London, my boy, maybe ssssomething will make ssssense. A flower market perhapsss?”

“My thanks, My Lord. For all your help and for your forgiveness. I will return the book when I have read it.”

“No, Jamessss. Keep it, in good faith and friendsssship.” My Lord rose and saw me to the entrance. “Good hunting, my boy.”


	16. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lester solves the riddle but is too late to stop the latest murder - but he does discover who Jack the Ripper really is. Can he stop Jack's escape?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks go to Fredbassett for the beta.

I spent the days that followed scouring the maps of London, Whitechapel in particular as I felt the killer would return to his normal hunting ground – the overcrowded and crooked streets of the East End. I had already dismissed that his victim would be one of the many flower girls who sold flowers on every corner for a pittance. No, his victims had been prostitutes and I saw no reason for him to target another group, even if I still had no knowledge of why he was targeting them. Ideas maybe, but I had no firm evidence to prove any of them... and until I did, they were irrelevant and would be as likely to lead me further from the killer's identity as they would to his door. 

I had a few possibilities of where he might strike again, Covent Garden Market – where the flower girls obtained their wares – and Flower and Dean Street were amongst them. Those gave me the flower part of the riddle, but what of the fair queen in her court? I saw no royal connection and felt it must be a clue to the victim herself, was it her name? Victoria? Elizabeth? Mary, even? I closed me eyes, how was I supposed to figure that part of the riddle out in time? 

I pulled out the files on all the previous victims and tried to figure out any connection between them, anything at all. Places they lived, people they knew, even there the various names they went by. 

I groaned as I straightened several hours later with nothing to show for my time except a migraine and an unwanted in-depth knowledge of the lifestyles of prostitutes in the East End. As far as I could tell the victims had no connection to each other, none except that they were prostitutes and I was no closer to stopping the next murder than when I had started. 

A smart rap on the door had me look up and I quirked an eyebrow as Becker entered with a tray. The enticing smell of some of Hattie's finest comfort foods wafted towards me and I must admit I began to drool in anticipation. The bottle of finest 18-year old was also most welcome and I savoured its smell once Becker had poured a glass. “Was there anything else, Becker?”

“You have a message from My Lord, Sir James.” Becker almost muttered, which was most unlike him and my other eyebrow rose. He cleared his throat under my gaze before adding, “Hattie waylaid me, sir. She will give you the letter once you have eaten your meal.” 

I was not sure whether to laugh or curse at Hattie's actions, she was determined to look after me and it did not matter to her that I was several centuries her senior. In the end amusement won and I chuckled. “Very well, Becker. Tell Hattie I will be a good boy. She can bring the message when she collects the tray.”

“Very good, sir.” I could see Becker's relief as he left me alone with my thoughts as I eagerly consumed my repast, licking my fingers clean as I sought every morsel. It was absolutely divine. 

Hattie was not at all repentant when she came for the tray. Indeed one could say she was almost impertinent as she quickly checked for uneaten food. “I'm only not checking more thoroughly as I know how much you love them.” She grinned at me as she continued, “After all, you are always on at me to make them for you.”

I snorted. Yes, I actually snorted. It was most ungentlemanly for such a sound to escape my lips. Although I must admit my eyes were no doubt alight with glee when she handed me another of her masterpieces. I sighed in satisfaction as the taste exploded in my mouth, so light, so creamy, so divine. My only problem came when I finished it and realised with some dismay that with an audience present I would have to wipe my fingers clean. 

Hattie rolled her eyes fondly at me. “Lick them, sir. I will not tell.” She even turned her back so I would have privacy and I made the most of it. Licking and sucking every finger as I sought every last trace and sighing with pleasure. She handed me a wet cloth to clean the last remaining stickiness from my hands before presenting me with My Lord's message. 

I stared at it for a moment before I reached out for it. I had actually forgotten it in the pleasure of consuming my treat. “Thank you, Hattie. You may leave me now.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Hattie gathered the tray up and was almost at the door when I cleared my throat. “By any chance, did you make more?”

Hattie smiled as she shook her head fondly at me. “Like a little boy with his sweets, you are, sir. I'll make some more for you tomorrow.”

I was in a good mood as I turned to My Lord's message and knew that had been Hattie's intention. She was a treasure and I had no idea how I would replace her in years to come. But, back to current business: I carefully slit the letter open with my letter opener before reading the contents. I allowed my head to lull back as I smiled softly.

****

My Lord was as good as his word and had provided several trusted vampires to watch the potential hunting ground of the killer. A mixture of his own Line and Hrothgar's, none possessed the ability to dominate and thus could not be the killer.

Even though it was a rainy and rather cold morning, I had myself and Ryan moving from area to area in the hope that I would notice something that would pinpoint the scene of tonight's murder. So far, I was none the wiser and had paused in a low quality coffee shop on Flower and Dean Street to peruse a map of Whitechapel once more. Ryan had brought each of us a coffee and I was trying not to cringe at the taste. I glanced up as he slid a plate in front of me and I found myself staring at the hot bun, gently steaming in the morning chill. 

“James?” Ryan's voice was low but anxious. 

I was a bloody fool. My disgusting coffee gratefully ignored as I scoured the map once more. My finger tracing the names of streets, yards and other captions as I sought the name I had look at many times over the last few days but had never really seen. I finally found it and breathed in relief as it was not far from our current location. But, the question remained, was I correct in my reasoning and if I was, would we still be too late to stop the crime? 

“Come, Ryan.” I stood up abruptly and left the coffee shop and our abandoned breakfast with a confused and worried Ryan on my heels. I wasted little time as I strolled as fast as I could without gaining undue attention from the crowds that still filled the area, even on a morning such as this. 

“Sire?” 

Ryan's worried voice had me pause for an instant before I beckoned for him to walk beside me. “I had a sudden thought on the riddle's answer, my dearest Ryan. It was the bun you brought.”

“Sire?” Ryan's voice had grown even more worried and I had the sudden realisation he thought I was having another funny turn. 

“I am perfectly fine, Ryan. I suddenly realised that the word 'flower' could, in fact, be 'flour',” When Ryan shot me another concerned glance, I quickly explained myself to him. “The Seer may not have meant flower, as in a blossom, my dearest Ryan. She might have meant flour as in bread.”

“I am afraid I still do not understand.” 

 

I smiled at the puzzlement in Ryan's voice as I explained as we hurried along Commercial Street. “I have looked at that map so many times, Ryan, and have seen the site we seek but have not realised it. Miller's Court, Ryan. Do you not see, Ryan, she meant Miller's Court.”

“Flour as in a miller? Are you sure, my sire?”

“It would give the royal connection we seek.” I sighed and shook my head. “But, no, I am not. That is why only we are investigating. I can not risk him striking elsewhere if I am wrong.” 

We hurried passed side streets on both sides before I located the one I wanted. “This is it! Dorset Street. Miller's Court lies off it.”

“Miller's Court is on which side, sire?” Ryan's voice was low and meant for my ears alone.

I was pleased that Ryan trusted my judgement – even though I had given him reason to doubt it on this business – and I paused in thought for an instant. “I believe it is on the north side, Ryan. Most probably access is via a narrow passageway.”

“I will be watchful.” 

Ryan murmured as he looked around and I knew he looked out of place when a group of three men stopped talking and watched us pass. I had little doubt they would follow us, thinking we were easy marks but I could do little about that except warn Ryan to be careful.

“Keep your wits about you, Ryan, this place is of ill-repute.” I had heard tales of this street in my investigations, for it was considered one of the most notorious and dangerous streets in all of Whitecapel. Indeed, the police only entered it in pairs and only if absolutely necessary. I could see why, it was short, narrow and mean, lined with cheap lodging and doss houses. All in all, it was a most disreputable place for some of the poorest inhabitants of our great city, and I had little doubt that the criminally-minded also dwelt here, eager to fall upon their prey if the slightest weakness was detected. As we entered the street, I caught sight of several more groups of men smoking evil-smelling pipes in the doorways, as thin rag-clothed urchins of various ages kicked some unidentified object about and a bawling babe lay in a side passage seemingly exhausted from crying. Shouting and the sound of fists striking flesh came from one side and I spied a fight spill onto the street, the urchins immediately abandoning their game to gather and watch. I hurried on as I had no wish to be involved in any brawl, although if I was lucky, the brawl would detain our three unwelcome followers. 

As we continued down the street, with the sounds of fighting continuing behind us, I spied a shadowy figure slipping from a narrow gash in the bricks. Something about him was familiar and the rank smell of blood and viscera drifted towards me. He started as he saw us before turning and running faster than a mortal man could move. As I gave chase with Ryan only steps behind me, I cursed myself that my revelation over the riddle had come too late to save his victim. 

He put on a fair turn of speed and managed to tip several obstacles in our path, causing me to leap over them, although Ryan stumbled and lost ground. I could not worry about him for I could not afford to lose the killer. 

Several horses neighed in fear and men and women shivered and crossed themselves as we sped by, mere blurs to them and soon forgotten as gin-soaked nightmares. The killer led me on a merry chase through the twisting and narrow street and lanes of Whitechapel and it was clear he knew this area well. Far better than I as I stumbled over the uneven ground he had not. 

He was clever or lucky or both, as his path did not take him near any of the vampires placed to help catch him. I had little doubt that if he could not soon lose me that I would bring him to bay, although who would be the hunter and who the prey was another matter. I knew that fight would be bloody as this rabid vampire was at least as old as I. If Ryan could but catch me up or another vampire crossed our paths I might have a slight advantage, but I had little hope of that. 

My opponent knocked over a barrel of apples onto the street and I lost valuable moments as I had to slow to retain my footing. I increased my pace as soon as I was past that obstacle, plunging somewhat foolhardily around another corner... and skidded to a stop. He was nowhere in sight. I looked both ways and could see neither him nor any where he could have darted to lose me. Damnation. If I lost him now I feared I would never catch him. 

I looked up at the sound of boots hitting slate and saw my quarry. He had taken to the rooftops and I raced up the nearest stairs to follow him. He had gained another advantage on me and I was somewhat reckless in my jumping. I hurled over a gap and felt my boots slip on the rain-slicked slates. As I scrabbled for purchase I felt several slates shift beneath my feet before they crashed into the street below to the angry yell of some passing man. I had little time to worry about him as I felt myself sliding towards the roof edge and desperately flailed for grip; if I fell I would certainly lose my prey. Finally my fingertips gain purchase and I held on grimly until I found my footing. I cursed myself for having lost valuable time in my rush and proceeded somewhat slower. Although not by much as I merely paused to consider each jump before I hurled myself through the void. 

I plunged on into the night and sped around a chimney only to stop in shock. A strange light hung in the air. It looked like fragments of a shattered mirror suspended in mid-air. I had never seen such a sight before and could not help wonder at its portent. 

My quarry came into sight from behind a stack of chimneys and moved towards it with purpose, almost with foreknowledge of its meaning. I called out for him to stop. Even though I had little hope he would. He stopped and turned towards me, the flickering light behind him throwing his shadowy features into monstrous relief.

“You can not stop me, James. No one can.” 

I froze as I recognised his voice. The voice of a vampire I had long considered a friend. I couldn't believe my ears that it was him, that he was the blood-soaked killer I had hunted so diligently. How could he be? Dr John Hunter was a good man. I knew he had a surgery where he tended to the needs of the poor. How could such a philanthropist and man of medicine have committed those gruesome murders? Hunter bowed mockingly to me and then, with a jaunty wave, he stepped backwards into those spinning shards. His form distorted by them and then... he was gone. 

I stood still for a heartbeat longer before I recovered from my paralysis. I threw caution to the wind as I hurried to follow him to... I had no idea but I just knew that shattered mirror led somewhere. I was barely yards from it when the light flared and died, winking out as if it had never existed and taking the Whitechapel killer with it. 

I slumped against a nearby chimney, my mind a whirl from what I had just witnessed. As the first pale light on the horizon heralded dawn my mind turned to Ryan, I had no idea where he was. I could only hope that he had returned home when he realised he had lost us. I hoped he had, for knowing Ryan he would stay and look for me. I would have to look for him... I paused as I looked around, of course, I would have to figure out where I was first. 

In the end I made for home, the sun had risen and Ryan would be either there or holed up somewhere in Whitechapel. My relief when I entered my home and found Ryan within was indescribable. I gladly soaked the layer of dirt from my skin before I joined Ryan in our bed. Just to lie exhausted in his arms. Exhausted and confused even as my mind churned over tonight's events as it screamed 'Why?'

****

I had received the report on the fifth murder, the fifth, and I knew, the final one. I had neither the wish nor the need to read it. It sat on my desk for two days before I opened it. I know not if it was some attempt to understand why Hunter, for he no longer deserved the title of Doctor, had murdered or in penitence for not stopping him, but I read every word. What he had done to that young woman was beyond horror and madness, the body lain out as if a sacrifice or offering to some dark god.

I found myself pacing my study as I sought to make sense of the events of the last three months. Something still did not fit. Something felt wrong, I could sense it. Even if I could not tell what it was. Oh, I had little doubt I now knew the identity of Jack the Ripper, but it made no sense. Why had he committed those terrible crimes? Was Jack truly his Hyde or... I knew not what to think. Did the man I had known for so many years still exist or had Jack completely supplanted him? I doubted I would ever know what had driven him to such madness and savagery. 

I sighed deeply and poured myself a glass of an exquisite 21-year-old from my estate. At least the Council had been pleased by my news that the Ripper had left our city. What vexed me was their reaction to how he had left, or rather, their lack of reaction. I couldn't help the suspicion that they had already known of the shattered mirror before I had mentioned it, although I knew better then to ask. 

As I sipped from my glass, even the excellent 21-year-old couldn't break through my thoughts. I had the horrid feeling that the light I had witnessed was a portal, to some other place, maybe to some other time. If it was, God help anyone on the other side of that portal. God help them, for Jack would not.


End file.
